


Guardians of the Gate

by crayonbreakygal



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-24
Updated: 2012-07-24
Packaged: 2017-11-10 14:52:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 59,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/467530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crayonbreakygal/pseuds/crayonbreakygal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wesley, Faith, Angel and Spike join forces to stop a group in Europe that threatens to release the most evil of creatures on mankind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Title: Guardians of the Gate

Summary: Wesley, Faith, Angel and Spike join forces to stop a group in Europe that threatens to release the most evil of creatures on mankind.

Rating: PG13 for swearing, violence, and such.

Pairings: Oh, geez. I'm not sure right now. Maybe none. We'll see as the story develops.

Disclaimer: Joss owns all. I wish I did. I'm only playing inhis playground for a little while, and then I have to go home.

Note: This is the sequel to "Guardian Angel". Takes place several months after the episode "Fade Away". So if you haven't seen the last Angel, spoilers abound. Previously on Angel: Wesley died during the fight with Cyrus Vail. But somehow the mage brought Wesley's body back to life, just as Wesley was trying to help Faith as her guardian angel. He's alive again! So now he has rejoined with Angel, Spike and Faith to travel to England and advise the newly formed Watchers' Council about what they know regarding the Circle of the Black Thorn, Wolfram and Hart, etc. Only things don't go as expected. More on the guardian angels that are Cordelia, Doyle, Fred, and Lindsey too. Unfortunately, you might want to read Guardian Angel before this. It might be confusing otherwise.

Chapter One – England

"Here we are. At the door of the protectors of moms, and apple pie, and puppies. How on earth these buggers can even kill one of us is beyond me."

Spike stood pacing at the doorway to the most evil organization in the world. Well, the most evil to a vampire about to get staked. Only he wasn't the evil one about to get staked anymore. He was good, or at least as good as he could be with the soul he had in place now.

"Did get blown up, you know. Tried to take our girl for a ride and she bit back. Makes you wonder if we should just take over the bleedin' place."

"Spike?" Angel asked.

"Yeah, mate?"

"Shut up," he responded, exasperated at the prattle from Spike.

Spike knew he was going on and on about the damn Watchers' Council. But the ones he was referring to were mostly dead and buried. Giles now had control over the remnants of the old and had ushered in the new. He just hoped he didn't see anyone he had tried to bite in the past.

"I don't know why I agreed to this."

"Because it's the right thing to do," the Watcher boy told him.

Wesley stood on his right, while Angel stood to his left. Faith just wandered aimlessly around, never keeping still. So much like Buffy, but so different in style.

"What're we gonna do? Stand out here all day or what?"

Faith was getting as impatient as he was. Spike bounced from foot to foot, trying to make sure he stayed ready for a fight just in case the old boys wanted to stake first and ask questions later.

"They need an invitation, Faith," Wesley answered, obviously getting annoyed with the wait also.

"Hey, not a vampire. Don't need that invitation."

"I would think that it would be rude to leave Angel and Spike out here all alone."

"Yeah, someone might try to stake us," Spike quipped.

"There is that," Wesley responded, smirking.

Spike watched Angel cross his arms over his body in a gesture of defiance. He knew it was his way of keeping busy, watching and listening for any problems. The vampire could take in a scene better than anyone he knew. Spike would never tell the big poof that though.

"Once they let us in Spike, they'd have to revoke the invitation. Revoking the invitation take time and talent. Right, Wes?" Angel pointedly looked Wesley's way.

"Not as much as you would think," Wesley told him with a cocked eyebrow.

Spike just wished that the two would kiss and make up. Not that either swung that way as far as he knew; they were just getting on his nerves. And his nerves were frayed beyond belief over the last couple of months. Sleep was a thing of the past. A few hours here and there. Otherwise, he sat and read. Or he sat and thought about the screw-up that was his undead life.

Not that the three people, no two people and one vampire who stood next to him weren't as screwed up as he was. Nope, they all had their own mega issues to deal with on a daily basis.

Angel had to deal with takin' on the bloody badest of the bad and surviving, taking most of his friends along for the suicide mission of the millennium. Hell, he was lucky that he had survived. If it hadn't been for Illyria. Spike stopped his train of thought right there. No thinking about Blue. He had come to care for her, maybe not deeply, but he had. That he had to admit to himself, but to no other.

The man on his right had been dead. Not like he and Angel dead, but dead as in choirs singing their praises and heavenly reward dead. Or at least that's where he thought Wesley had ended up. It wasn't like the guy had talked about it at all. Probably wouldn't ever because some kind of clause saying that if he did, he'd keel over and bite the dust, with every pun intended.

And the growth out of Percy's hip was his slayer, Faith. They were two peas in a pod. Almost never out of each other's sight. He hadn't suspected any kind of hanky panky between the two, but given time, he bet there would be. Who else would understand what they were going through? Faith had been just a little too possessive of the guy as of late, like she was scared that he would disappear in a puff of smoke and go back to where he had gone to after death.

Maybe the damned watchers were afraid to come out and face this motley crew. The four of them looked like some badass leather biker club with Faith and her jacket and pants, Angel's and his dusters, and the ex-watcher's coat. At least Percy's was brown in color, while the three of them wore black. He was ever so glad that the Wolfram and Hart gang in Rome gave him all those spare dusters. Fighting was hell on the wardrobe.

"We should motor," Faith finally spoke up, tired of waiting for the ponces to come out and talk to them.

Just as she turned to leave, the door opened to the place. They had waiting approximately an hour and twenty-five minutes for the Council to make up its bloody mind whether they were going to admit the four. Spike wanted to smile and make them scared that they made him wait, but he just didn't have the heart at the moment. He just wanted to sleep. Maybe they had some good scotch around.

"Sorry to keep you waiting. They were discussing strategy," Giles started.

"More likely who to stake first if we get out of hand," Spike answered.

Giles smirked a little. "Not that it didn't come up, but you may enter, Angel and Spike."

 

 

 

What looked like a nice townhouse was a major operation, Faith thought as they entered the inner sanctum of the Watchers' Council. People stopped and stared. She kind of wished there was something for them to stare at as they passed by. She wanted to go up to each of them and yell boo to see if any of them jumped. She bet most of them would.

Beside her, Wesley clenched his jaw, but no other emotion played across his face. But she knew that face very well, that I'm holding everything in because of the way I was treated before face. And Giles never checked him for weapons. Not so bright, she thought.

The place looked and smelled like books and tea. Not anything like Wes, though. His smell soothed her like no other. This place just put her on pins and needles.

"Pretty spiffy," she whispered to Wesley as Giles led them to somewhere.

"You should have seen the last place they used. Much larger, much more elegant than this."

Faith was glad she never got to see the last place, because that would have meant that the Council had captured her and probably she would have been on her way to being dead. So she was really glad about not seeing that place.

"With a lot more starched collars and suits, no doubt."

"No, you're right."

Faith liked it that Wesley hadn't dressed for the occasion. She was afraid that he would resort to Watcher Wesley. But he had stuck to his basics. Leather coat, dark shirt, and jeans. The jeans made her proud. That meant that the jerks didn't mean as much as she thought they did to him. Or that he was just rebelling.

"By the way, like the outfit."

Wesley turned to her and winked. She shook her head back and forth, trying to determine if that was what she saw.

"As much as we like the tour and all, Giles, where the hell are we going?" Spike piped up.

Angel had been mostly silent since they had gotten to the waiting area outside the compound. She wondered what was going on with him. Sometimes it really ticked her off that Angel wasn't in the sharing mood. Just like Spike shared too much in the past. Now Spike had become the broody vampire, while Angel had become the silent vampire. Wesley didn't brood, wasn't exactly silent, but he wasn't exactly in sharing mode either. God, she didn't know whether to beat the living daylights out of the three or kiss them for not bugging her.

"We're here," Giles rang out, voice echoing in the corridor.

Faith noticed that Spike was ready to fight and Angel and Wesley looked to be downright bored. Should she adopt Spike's stance or not give damn about what was going to happen?

Giles opened the door to a conference room. At the other end of the room was a blonde woman with her back turned away from the door. Now Angel did react, tensing up, as did Spike. Wesley just cocked that stupid eyebrow of his like he was waiting for the show.

"God, you took long enough," Buffy said as she turned around to greet them.

"I had to make sure they could actually enter, Buffy," Giles answered.

"So, here's dumb and dumber. Oh, and I should add jackass to the bunch, but I don't know what his involvement in all of this was, so I'll reserve judgment until later. What possessed you to pull such a stupid, asinine stunt like that?"

Buffy looked directly at Angel with her question. Angel put up his hand like he was going to answer her, but then he shoved them in his pockets. Spike still bounced on his heels, not wanting to answer Buffy.

"Seemed like a good idea at the time," Angel mumbled as Buffy made her way over to the group.

"Oh, yeah right. Take on demons that even the jackass here hasn't heard of," Buffy said as she pointed to Wesley, "get yourself killed I might add, since at least one of you in this room did. Not ask for help."

Faith could see that Buffy was building a full head of steam. She leaned up against the wall to watch the fireworks.

"Oh, and you doing that I'm disappearing act, again I might add. Not making any points in my book, Faith."

Faith just shrugged, knowing it was best just to let her rant. She'd run out of steam eventually.

"Buffy, do we have to do this now?" Spike asked, obviously not wanting to hear the full rant.

"Do we have to do this now? Did you just say that? I'm not hearing you correctly, because you were dust. Remember? Amulet, Spike, burn to a fiery death?"

"Yep, I burned up and I came back. Just deal, slayer."

Oops, Faith thought. Spike's lack of sleep really wasn't helping the situation. Sure, he wasn't himself lately, ever since Illyria had saved them all. But she had never seen Spike take that kind of attitude with Buffy before. At least what she saw when she was in Sunnydale.

"Buffy, maybe later you can visit with them, or kill them. Right now we need to plan what the four of them will say to the full Council. The meeting is in an hour."

Angel stood stock still as always. Buffy hadn't really said hello to him, which must suck in his eyes.

"You're right, Giles. Sorry."

Buffy walked over to Angel, looking up into his eyes. "We are so gonna have words."

Faith grimaced at that thought. If she was Angel, she'd hide for a while, at least until Buffy calmed down a bit. And she'd make sure there were no pointy objects in the room when the discussion happened.

Wesley just stood with his arms crossed over his front. Man, did he look like he didn't want to be there right then. Faith was afraid that he might scoot on out of there. She just hoped that the asshole father was nowhere to be seen. Her luck wouldn't hold though. Wesley would have to see him, probably would insist on seeing him. But only if she was there for backup. She would insist on that.

"The Council would like all the details on the Circle of the Black Thorn. And any other facts that you could give them of your employment with Wolfram and Hart." Giles was all business.

"What is there to say? Bad guys, we killed them. Case closed," Spike summarized.

"Spike, they'll want to know everything about every demon, down to the last detail," Wesley added.

"I kind of liked the dragon," Angel muttered to no one.

"Get off the dragon, you git," Spike said, hearing what the vampire said.

"Not like you helped me with that, William."

"I seemed to remember someone with blue hair and wearing leather taking that one away from you."

Wesley just rolled his eyes and sat down at the table. Faith joined him as the two vampires argued. Buffy finally clapped her hands together to get their attention.

"God, will you two shut up?" she told them.

"Buffy's right, you two. We can't go in there acting as such," Giles wanted the vampires to know.

Faith sat and looked at Wesley, trying to ignore the other four. She thought he looked tired. Trying to take care of him was challenging to say the least. He didn't want to be babied. Not that she was in to that; she just wanted to make sure he was fully recovered. The circles under his eyes told her a different story.

"How are you doing?" she quietly asked him.

"Faith, I'm perfectly capable of handling being here."

"Could a fooled me," she responded, taking his cold hand in hers.

A little gasp from Buffy made her drop Wes's hand quickly.

"Hey, how about some tea? My man's cold as ice. Why do these places always have to be so drafty?" Faith said, trying to cover.

"That's an excellent plan, Faith," Giles answered, earning her an upraised eyebrow at the handholding.

He hurriedly gathered together the makings, with hot water and a selection of various teas. Wesley nodded gratefully as he took his first sip. Spike just tapped his foot on the floor where he sat. Angel didn't sit, but stood off to the side.

"Wesley, we also need to know what happened to you after your, well death? Many of the scholars . . . ,"

"I can't," Wesley interrupted the older watcher.

"But why? This is unprecedented."

"Because I just can't, as in it will not come out of my brain. No words, no writing, not anything. I guess it's a safeguard against the people in this dimension knowing anything about what goes on."

"Oh, dear," Giles told him.

"I'll give you as much as I can about all the other things."

"Wesley, one of the reasons why the Council is willing to reinstate you is your knowledge of this, whatever it was that happened to you."

"Well, it ain't happenin'. They'll just have to deal, or we're gone, Giles," Faith answered for him.

Faith didn't want these buffoons pushing Wesley around at all. But she figured that for the most part he could take care of himself. Before any more questions could be posed, the door opened again to reveal another familiar face.

"Oh look. It's vampires and slayers and watchers," the first one started.

"Oh, my," the other one finished.

Faith had missed Willow and Xander at least a little. They were amusing at times. And they did care about her in some fashion. But their first allegiance was to Buffy. Just like her first allegiance was to Wes.

Both Spike and Wes rose to greet the new arrivals.

"Didn't believe when they said you were alive, Spike," Xander said as he made his way over to the vampire.

"Still dead, although undead is still better than nothing."

"We're glad it worked out," Willow said to Spike, a smile on her face.

"So am I," Spike answered without much conviction to his voice.

Maybe the two from Sunnydale would put Spike in a better frame of mind. He had been down in the dumps ever since Illyria had sacrificed herself. Faith didn't know whether Spike really liked the demon or whether everything that had happened to him in the last year had finally caught up with him. Could be both.

Angel's mood baffled her. One minute, he was happy that he still had friends alive, and the next minute he was arguing with them, trying to push them away. She was glad that Gunn had stayed in Los Angeles to recover. The man still wasn't walking right. Every time Angel saw how much Gunn suffered, he would literally go running from the room.

But her main concern was for her watcher. Physically, he was tired all the time. Giles had told her that he might be that way for some time. The spell that he performed to get her slayer powers back could drain even the best of mages. She didn't think that was the problem. The problem was the atmosphere. Being in Los Angeles had made Wesley see all that he had lost in the past couple of years. Faith hoped that being in England would help him heal, if not physically, at least emotionally. She'd put a happy face on him if it took killing everyone that ever said a cross word to him, present company not excluded.

"So, are you going to tell them the real reason I took over Wolfram and Hart?" Angel said from behind Wesley, low enough for the others to not hear.

If Angel wanted to pick a fight, here was definitely not the best place to do it. Besides, Buffy looked like she wanted to tussle and she wasn't afraid to make it hurt. Neither was Faith, if the vampire stepped over the line.

"They will find out eventually," Wesley answered, not turning around.

Faith could see the look of hurt in his eyes ever so briefly. She'd get the whole, unabridged version of the story some day. Right now, she needed to make sure a fight did not break out between the two.

"Yes, you're right. I just don't have the means right now to protect him."

"I understand all too well, Angel."

"Good. Then that's settled."

Angel walked away to stand by the door, like he wanted to get this all over with and disappear.

"Wes, you do what you have to do."

"As I always do, Faith."

Which meant he'd lie, cheat and steal for the dumbass by the door, especially if it was for the greater good.

"Tell you what? Later on, I'll spar with him and kick his ass. How's that sound?"

Wesley's mouth ticked up a little on one end, like he would love to be there to witness that. "Better you than me."

Faith grinned at his announcement. Luckily, the Sunnydale contingent had avoided them for a few minutes, until Xander decided it was time to talk to Wesley.

"So, you were dead?"

"So, you're a dumbass," Faith bit back.

"Just trying to make conversation, Faith. Down girl."

"Fuck off, Harris," Faith answered back, getting irritated at his attitude.

"Faith," Wesley softly called out her name.

"Everyone, please take your seats. Let's go over what happened, exactly," Giles told the group.

Angel begrudgingly sat the furthest from everyone, while Spike propped his boots up on the table.

"Angel, since it was your plan, why don't we start with you. What made you want to take on this organization?"

"Cordelia gave me a vision, right before she died. It gave me clues as to what the group was, what they controlled and so forth."

"So she died to save your butt," Xander chimed in.

"No, she was already quite dead before then," Wesley added. "She just came back for that one day, to help out in any way she could."

"This group, the Circle of the Black Thorn, what was their role?"

And on and on, until it was almost time to go face the music.

"Hey, you sure you don't wanna just blow?" Faith whispered in Wesley's ear.

"We should hear what they have to say first."

So, he was contemplating leaving. That cheered Faith just a little.

"They dare say any words that I don't like, they may find one pissed off slayer in their faces."

"I'm sure they're aware of your status."

"And you're status. Don't forget that."

"What makes you think that I could for one moment?"

The two had closed the gap between them, like they were telling secrets to each other and no one else could hear. Except that Angel and Spike could probably hear everything they said, and Buffy could at least hear snippets. Damn supernatural hearing.

They were all led down a long corridor until they came to a stop at a set of large doors. Spike still bounced on the balls of his feet, making Faith even antsy. She just wished the vampire would get over it. They weren't gonna stake him this time. Too many slayers around that had their lives saved by the guy. Wesley just stared at the doors, trying to hide his emotions. The man wasn't scared. He was angry. All that resentment was building in him. She might just have to stop him from making some grave mistake and ending his paid career as reformed watcher. Getting paid for the stinking job was a plus.

"Ready to face those jerks?" she asked him as the doors opened.

"Nothing to face, Faith."

 

 

Wesley cringed inwardly as the doors opened. He was finally back in the halls of the Watchers' Council, even if it was a new building. He could count on his hands the number of watchers that had actually survived the explosion of the main headquarters. New ones were being trained, but it would take time to rebuild the enterprise that had taken millennia to build.

Wesley recognized a few of the faces that were sitting behind a large, long table at the other side of the room. Not that this was the inquisition, he thought sarcastically. It looked to be a bloody trial. And if they were found guilty, they might be led away, never to be heard from again. Four chairs sat before the table, lined up in a perfect row.

Spike wouldn't have anywhere to put his feet, and Angel would balk at having to sit still that long in those chairs. Faith, he didn't even want to think how she would handle the questions, much less be able to sit for them. He himself didn't want to sit and listen to all their inane comments.

"Well, this is friendly," Spike spoke out loud.

Spike would always tell you how he felt about a situation. He may not tell you how he truly felt about you, but if something were there to glom upon, then Spike would find it and exploit it to his advantage. He was such the student of human nature.

Angel was the first to seat himself before the Watchers' Council board. The Scourge of Europe wasn't afraid of these mere mortals. As he shouldn't be. Angel had survived far worse over the past hundred years with having a soul and stopping numerous apocalypses.

Spike sat next, turning his chair so that he straddled it. His show of bravado had several of the people sitting behind the table whispering and gesturing.

Faith sat down, propping her leg up on the last chair. She tapped her hands to her own beat, always moving her fingers. That meant that she was nervous. He was the last to sit down, shooing her feet off the chair. He eyed each member of the council board, trying to assess what their agendas might be. He knew a few from his father's days, but the rest were fairly new. Green, just as he was in Sunnydale.

Giles took a seat behind the table in the middle. The rest of the Sunnydale gang sat off to the side, in what looked to be more comfortable chairs. He just hoped that Spike didn't see this and throw one of them off. It wouldn't bode well for them to cause a scene.

"Thank you all for coming. As you know, we are here to ascertain what exactly happened in Los Angeles approximately two months ago. I wanted you all to be aware of the danger that still lurks out there," Giles spoke with authority.

"Danger, Will Robinson," Spike leaned over to whisper in Faith's ear.

Faith just smirked back. Wesley rolled his eyes, gesturing with his head for them to pay attention. He wanted everyone's opinion on the new Council, which meant that they needed to pay attention, not be off thinking of other things.

"You all know each of the four before us," Giles continued.

"What I do not understand is why we let them in?" a young man to the right spoke up.

Wesley almost snickered. Green indeed. The man couldn't be more than thirty. His tweed even looked too new.

"He couldn't fight his way out of a nest of birds," Faith mumbled.

"Reminds me of someone," Angel spoke up.

"Yes, let's bring that up," Wesley quipped back, trying to joke. He kept the venom out of the statement, because Angel seemed to be amused. "And Faith? That was a really lame joke."

"Bite me," she countered.

"Are you finished?" Giles offered.

"Yeah. Go ahead your highness," Spike told Giles.

Xander stuck up one finger, like he was marking a chalkboard. One in their favor.

"Spike, would you like to start? How did you come back?"

"Amulet I was wearin', someone sent it to Angel. Poof, I'm back, only I'm a ghostie. Which really sucked, by the way. No thanks to the two poofs here. Then I'm a boy again, undead mind you. So that's what happened."

The Council looked as confused as ever. Wesley would have to translate it into coherent English so that they would understand.

"The amulet that Spike used to close the Hellmouth was sent to Angel at Wolfram and Hart. Spike's essence must have been stored in it after his death. It dropped to the ground, releasing Spike from its grasp. We're not sure exactly who sent it to Angel, but we can make a few guesses. As suddenly as he was brought back, he was made corporeal again. Another package had arrived, somehow making him solid. And we had nothing to do with it."

"Yeah, considerin' you wanted me to meet my maker there for an instant."

Wesley ignored Spike, knowing that if he took the bait, they could be there for hours.

"But the Senior Partners could have sent it? Am I right?" said the lady off to the left.

Wesley didn't know her. She was quite young to actually be a member of the Council, but beggars couldn't be choosers. And she was quite attractive, having some of the physical characteristics that he found in Lilah to be intriguing. Her what looked to be long, brown hair was pulled up into a severe bun, in addition to the severely cut brown suit that she wore. She looked the part of watcher. Not anything like Lilah's sense of fashion. But he wondered if she was as tall as the evil lawyer.

"That is one of many possibilities, yes. Whatever the motives were, it backfired. Spike has been working with us from day one. I don't think whoever brought him back realized that he had a soul. Or if they did, that didn't matter to their plans."

"Angel, why did you take over Wolfram and Hart in the first place?" Giles put in to the arena.

"It's complicated."

"We have time."

Great, Wesley thought. Angel would tell them half-truths, creating this web of deception. He'd have to listen very closely to follow the vampire's lead.

"I was protecting someone dear to me. If I took the job, he lived. If I didn't, he died. As simple as that. Oh, and I got the information to Buffy so that she could take down the First. Bonus points for that one."

Xander put up his finger again, marking another slash in their column.

"One person should not mean that much in the scheme of things," the pretty, Lilah look-alike answered.

One person did matter more than anything in Angel's eyes. His son meant more to him than Wesley did, more than Cordelia did, probably more than anyone did combined. Would Wesley ever do something like that? He shuddered to think that he could. Every time he had followed a path to kill Illyria, he held back. Fred had meant everything to him, and he couldn't even kill the thing that had taken her away from him.

"Glad I'm not you," Spike answered.

"I thought at the time that by working inside the organization, that I could do more good than I had done outside of it. In some ways, it worked. In other ways, it didn't."

"You did manage to take out the Los Angeles branch of Wolfram and Hart," Giles pointed out.

"For now. When the Beast destroyed most of the employees a while ago, it didn't take them long to get back into action," Angel explained.

Several of the members shook their heads in agreement. He wondered if they knew about the clause in the employee's contracts that said the lawyers would work for the evil organization forever? Wesley was so glad he hadn't succumbed to signing anything like that.

"We have been monitoring their progress. It looks as if they haven't been able to get that operation back and running," the pretty lady volunteered.

Wesley just wished he knew each of their names. He'd have to get a roster from Giles later to see which of them he knew and could trust. Then they asked Wesley about all the cases that they handled when they were with Wolfram and Hart. It took some time to go through each instance, each time they actually helped instead of hindered, and did some good. The rest beside him added where they could, but Wesley took the brunt of the questions from the Council. By the time he was done, his voice was a bit hoarse. But there was no comfort from the people in front of him. Not like he felt there would be.

"Mr. Wyndam-Pryce, is it true that you died?" the pretty lady asked pointedly.

"Wesley unfortunately cannot answer that question," Giles piped up.

"But as the heads of this body, we need to know exactly what happened," the pretty lady said.

Faith tensed beside him, knowing that he couldn't answer. Yes, she did know a few things about his existence after death, considering she had encountered Cordelia.

"Clarisse, he cannot physically tell you anything. It is not possible," Giles added.

He appreciated that Giles was trying to shield him. At least the man believed him when he said that there was no possibility of answering. Sometimes he thought that his dead life had been a dream, something he imagined. But he hadn't imagined it. He wondered if it would have been easier to stay dead. Instead, he was here, answering asinine questions from an organization he had every right to not believe in or trust anymore.

"Why on earth would be want to reinstate someone who could not cooperate?" she finished.

"Because it's the right thing to do," Faith said to the body, very serious look on her face.

"Like you would know the right thing to do," Clarisse challenged.

Faith started to rise from her chair to challenge the council's representative. Wesley's hand stayed her from going any further. He could defend himself from this verbal assault.

"I don't think that we've had the pleasure of meeting, Clarisse is it?"

"Clarisse Clairbourne," she answered with disdain.

"Ah, there are some Clairbournes in my family tree."

"I assure you that if we are related, it is very distantly."

Now Wesley knew where he had recognized her. She was a distant cousin from his father's side of the family. The last time he had seen her had been at least ten years prior. She had been a teenager, full of energy and curiosity.

"Family connections aside, I believe that you did not answer the question that was put forth to you."

"And as Mr. Giles has answered for me, I cannot reveal any information to you. As simple as that."

He thought that Faith was going to stick out her tongue at the woman, but she controlled her temper. He kind of felt like doing it himself just to see her reaction. It would be enjoyable to be the rebel for once in his life.

"And as for my slayer, she's helped save the world several times. I think a little respect is due Faith. Don't you?"

The board as a whole looked pointedly at Wesley, knowing that he had challenged them. Giles just smirked his way. Earning their respect would be hard. And he really didn't care at that time to try. He had proved himself time and time again.

"You are right, Wesley. Faith, in addition to Buffy, does warrant our respect, as this body well knows. I apologize to you if anyone here has offended you in any way."

Wesley didn't want Giles apologizing for anything this group was doing to them. Neither did Angel, by the look on his face. Steam seemed to be coming out of his ears. Did Angel really care how this body treated him? But Angel held his tongue, not speaking up. Wesley realized that Angel would save his words until necessary.

"Then, I'm sorry, Mr. Wyndam-Pryce. I do not see why you would be reinstated as Faith's watcher," Clarisse finished.

The room broke out into chaos at that moment. Angel rose up, pointing to the board that they were making a big mistake. Faith stomped her feet down, planting them in a fighting stance. Both Willow and Buffy made their way over to the group, with Willow in the lead, not ready to calm the others, but joining in his defense. Even Spike decided to join in, if just to have some fun. Xander made the gesture of another point in their favor, and making the miming that the bell had rung and Angel's team had won that bout. Wesley doubted that had happened. He really didn't care what the body thought of him. He knew what and who he was. So did Faith.

"Everyone, please take your seats. We cannot discuss this unless I have quiet."

"We're done. Wes, let's go," Angel announced.

Angel did not boss him around anymore. He was not the head of Angel Investigations, not the head of Wolfram and Hart's Los Angeles offices. He was just Angel, vampire with a soul. But he had the best idea Wesley had heard all day.

Several of the board members had rose from their seats also. Wesley could see that many of them had stakes held in their hands. They'd all be dead in less than a minute if Angel, Spike and Faith were to actually attack them. Might make a good show, he thought. But that would be very wrong, indeed.

"Let's blow, loverboy," Faith added.

Xander laughed out loud at that statement, but several of the members did not. He knew Faith just did it to tick them off. He really didn't care what they thought of his relationship with Faith. It just didn't matter anymore.

"Best idea I've heard all day. Let's go get a pint," Spike told him.

"Are you buying?" Wesley asked. Spike turned his pockets inside out. "I guess not."

"Giles is buying, believe me," Buffy offered, turning her back on the table.

"You will not leave until we say you can," Clarisse challenged the group.

"Uh, two slayers, two vampires, the most powerful witch in the world, the carpenter and the ex-watcher say yeah. We're leavin'," Xander told the woman.

"Xander's a carpenter?" Wesley asked as the group headed out the door.

"Man, you would not believe the number of windows and doors I've had replaced over the years. Being around Buffy is hell on a house," Xander answered him back.

Wesley snorted at Xander's antics, glad that the group before him actually wanted him around. Faith attached herself to his side as they walked out the door. Before leaving the council's sight, both Buffy and Faith shot their middle fingers out in an act of defiance.

"Buffy," Willow admonished.

"Dawn's not here. Faith's influence," Buffy answered, blaming the other slayer.

"Ha. I don't think so," Faith quipped back.


	2. Beer Bad

Chapter Two – Beer Bad

"Bloody hell," Wesley groaned as he tried to sit up in his bed.

His head felt like it was ready to fall off. From what he could tell from the closed curtains, it was already light outside. He really couldn't remember when or how he had gotten back to the flat that Giles had obtained for their stay. There wasn't much he could remember about last night, other than drinking copious amounts of alcohol with Faith, Angel, Spike, and possibly Buffy, Xander, Giles and Willow. Maybe it was a figment of his imagination. Certainly the two factions didn't like each other enough to get stinking drunk together. Of course with neither one liking the current Council as a whole, that might have provided some common ground to at least talk.

Sitting up gingerly, he tried swinging his feet over the side and swayed a little before managing to achieve the movement. It's not like he couldn't hold his liquor. He could. He had too many times to count. Whiskey had become his best friend for months after his break with Angel and his friends. And he had drunk himself into a stupor after Fred had died. He guessed he had been in perpetual hangover mode many times in his life. He must have been out of practice for it to affect him this much. Keeping up with vampires and slayers must have been too much of a challenge. He swore that Spike had a wooden leg. Or that vampires really couldn't get drunk.

Moaning, he dropped back onto the bed, wondering why on earth he was actually getting up in the first place. It wasn't like he had a job. The Council obviously hadn't forgotten about his past mistakes, adding on new ones. And he didn't feel that proving himself to the lot was beneficial. He'd do what he damned well pleased. If it meant dying on that bed right then, then so be it.

A pounding on his door made him grab his head again in pain. Whoever was out there had a death wish. But in the condition he was in, they'd have to wait to be thrashed. He couldn't lift a finger without it hurting.

"Hey, wakey, wakey," Faith said as she entered his room without an invitation.

"Oh, go to hell," he answered, not liking that she was chipper.

"Looks who's grumpy this morning, I mean this afternoon. Man, you were so fucked up last night. I had to carry you in here."

Wesley looked over himself, noticing that he had on his pajama bottoms only, not the clothes from last night.

"You didn't," he asked her.

"Hey, barf boy. I had to. You were so wicked gross and all. Just don't do that again. Here, drink this."

Faith handed him a drink that he had no intention of tasting. Probably some American way of handling a hangover, no doubt.

"I think I told you . . . ," he started, wincing as he heard other loud noises in the hall.

"I know. Go to fucking hell. I heard you. Drink up, watcherboy. We need you at full strength."

Wesley wanted to laugh. Why would Faith need him at full strength? He almost choked as his mind wandered into the gutter.

"Ya know I can read your mind, dumbass. Just drink it," she yelled.

Stabbing pain shot through his brain this time at her loud voice. He'd better drink it just to get her to leave. Slowly, he sat up, trying not to spill the contents over his bed. Sniffing it, he grimaced at the smell. This might make him vomit all over again.

Holding his nose, he upended the glass, draining it as quickly as he could. He choked a little at the end.

"Now what? Will it make me puke?" he gasped.

"You do look a little green, Wes. I thought you could hold your liquor?"

"So did I."

"Don't worry. You aren't the only one with a freakin' hangover. Everyone else, except for Spike, has a hangover. Even Giles is praying to the porcelain god this morning, afternoon."

"Good. Wouldn't want him to feel left out, now would we?"

Faith waved at him as she left, him still clutched his head in his hands. His stomach was actually starting to calm somewhat. The spinning that the room was doing before had stopped. Only his head still hurt fiercely.

"What in bloody hell were you doing?" Wesley heard Spike yell from the hallway.

Just what he needed. A pissed off vampire in the middle of the day. Inching his way off the bed, he made his way to the door to look out. Spike was standing toe-to-toe with Xander of all people. He almost shut his door again to the ranting, but decided to watch the show for a moment, just to see what would get Spike all riled up. So he crossed his arms over his bare chest and settled against his doorframe to watch.

"Stay out of it," Xander warned him.

"I'll not stay out of it. What did you think would happen?"

And why does Spike care what Xander was doing?

"Tryin' to sleep here," Buffy said, popping her head out from a door down the way.

Her hair stood up on end, and she seemed even more blurry-eyed than he did. And she looked to be on the warpath to the two in the hallway. Faith came barreling out of her room next to Wesley's clad only in a towel. Neither man stopped arguing as she approached them. Wesley was going to approach, but decided to stop in his tracks. Two pissed off slayers would handle this easily. Or they'd crack the two's skulls open and go back to what they were doing. Faith could make the towel slip, which would stop all the males in the vicinity from doing whatever they were doing. He wasn't going to suggest that. He might get hit.

"Break it up," Faith shouted as Xander's hands went for Spike's throat.

Not a smart move, since vampires don't breathe. But Xander tackled Spike to the ground, moving his arm to throw a punch. Buffy caught it deftly, making sure it didn't go any further.

Willow exited the room that Xander had come from, wearing a pair of men's boxers and a large t-shirt. Both Buffy and Faith noticed this and their eyes went wide. Wesley felt that he watching part of a soap opera. Only he didn't know his part at all. He would just stand back and have someone else deal with what was happening.

"Will? What was Xander doing in your room?" Buffy asked.

Oh, so that's what she was doing, Wesley thought. But isn't she gay?

"None of your cotton pickin' business, Ms. Smarty Pants."

"Damn straight," Xander agreed.

"He took advantage of her," Spike said from the floor.

"Oh, fucking A, you three. Just give it a rest. Xander, keep it in your pants," Faith chided as she turned to go back to her shower.

With a smirk, Faith turned towards Wesley to head back to her room.

"Faith? You never told me who cleaned me up," Wesley muttered so the rest couldn't hear.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" she answered as she approached her door.

"I would appreciate it."

"Come join me in the shower and maybe I'll tell ya," she purred as she passed him by.

"That was way too much information," Angel mumbled as he stumbled out of his room across the way from Wesley's. "Is there something going on between you two that I don't know about, Wes?"

"I don't think that is any of your concern, Angel," Wesley answered as the din at the other end of the hallway rose to a loud crescendo.

Buffy had let go of Xander's arm to speak with Willow about her sleeping arrangements. Xander and Spike had taken to wrestling to see who could gain the upper hand.

"Faith is my friend. I don't want you taking advantage her."

"On the contrary. It's the other way around."

"What did you say?" Faith growled as she stopped in her doorway.

"Tell me what happened last night. Why am I in different clothes?"

"Faith, did you take advantage of him?" Angel asked incredulously.

Buffy was trying to pull Xander and Spike apart at the other end while Willow kept pointing out that everyone should butt out of her business. Faith got into Angel's face to stare him down after his comment.

"Will you bloody well shut up?" Giles bellowed out in his best Ripper voice.

The shouting, fighting and pointing stopped immediately. All eyes turned to Giles, who looked like he had been run over by a truck.

"Go back to your rooms until you can be civil to each other. Do you understand me?"

Buffy started to protest, but Giles gave her that look that almost made her squeak. Faith stuck her tongue out at Angel, and pointed at Wesley that they would definitely talk later. Spike and Xander glared at each other as they made their way to their respective rooms, at the opposite ends of the hallway. Willow threw up her arms in disgust and slammed her door.

"Children. Why do I put up with this?" Giles grumbled as he quietly shut his door.

Wesley sighed as he escaped back into his room. They all really did just act like a bunch of children, having Giles chastise them to stop the nonsense. It somehow felt good to be a part of the fight though -- since last night at the bar it was all for one, and one for all when the watcher trainees had entered.

\---------------

Faith sat down at a table, crowding in between Wes and Angel. She knew they'd never sit directly next to each other, so she was the buffer zone. They both cared about her. So they both would sit with her by their sides. She felt like she had been enveloped in a hero sandwich. Both men weren't lightweights. Angel's shoulders took up enough room to total two men. Wesley may not have been as broad, but his height made his legs bump hers as she sat down. Buffy was smashed in between Xander and Giles, while Willow was between Spike and Xander. Angel and Spike were sitting side-by-side, which could cause a problem. She just didn't hope she had to separate them. Faith thought it made an excellent seating chart. Everyone who could cause bodily harm to each other had a buffer zone in between. So why did it have to be the women of the group?

"I am sorry about the Council. Many of them are quite young yet, but they'll come around."

Buffy mumbled something under her breath, causing both Spike and Angel to grin. Faith only caught the words fight and fist, which meant that Buffy wasn't going to take anything off the new members.

"If I could have a list of the members, that would be helpful," Wesley asked as they all sipped their beers.

"Of course. You might know background on some of them that I didn't uncover. I assure you each of them have been thoroughly checked by every known source for conspiring with anyone that has been on our watch list."

"Things like that can be fixed, you know," Angel piped up.

"Unfortunately, all too well. Just last month I had to expel one member for associations with Wolfram and Hart."

"Who?" Angel quickly asked, interest piqued.

"A lady by the name of Allison Cromwell. Comes from a good family in London. Apparently a relative worked for the Rome branch for quite some time. The sweep missed it."

"See. No system is full proof. Even yours, Rupert," Spike commented on the watcher's abilities.

Giles eyed Spike for a moment, but let the comment drop.

Faith couldn't believe that each of them around the table had defended Wesley. She would have thought that she would have been the only one to stand up and tell those people where to take a flying leap. Even Buffy got into it. Unfortunately Wes didn't look any more chipper that there were so many people in his corner. He would be her watcher no matter what, the Council be damned.

"So now that the Council's told us to fuck off, what do we do?" Faith asked Giles.

"Faith, it's not that they've told you anything. Don't worry. Most of the members are reasonable beings. They will see that the help that the four of you will give will be invaluable. No matter what anyone's current status is."

As Faith eyed Wes, she could see that he really didn't care about the opinion of the Council. Good for him, she thought. Maybe he really was over caring about what those pompous asses thought.

"We'll just tell them to piss off," Spike added, gulping the beer in front of him.

Faith noticed that all of them seemed to be drinking their sorrows down the drain. Most had finished the first round in a few minutes time. And Wes had been the first one to the finish line.

"I'm dry," Xander said as he held up his empty beer glass.

Since the place was crowded, no waitress came to take an order. Wesley volunteered to go order the next round at the bar. Faith decided to join him, to maybe see if there was something she could say to him to get him out of the brooding mood he had gotten in since he left the Council's headquarters.

"Need help?" Faith inquired as Wes approached the bar.

He waved her over to stand in front of him. She hadn't meant to stand so close to him, but the crush of bodies helped that along.

"Doin' OK?" she said as she pulled his head down to hear her.

"Never better," he lied to her.

"Liar. You know I know when you lie."

Another patron bumped into the back of Faith as they were waiting for the other round of drinks. Not that Faith wasn't quick on her feet, but she had been too busy to pay attention, so she accidentally slammed up against Wes. He grunted a little as the bar bit into his back. A jolt of pure lust almost overwhelmed Faith's senses. Pulling back sharply, she upended a drink on the floor from another person passing by.

"Hey, sorry, man," she called out.

The man just glared at her, walking over to join a large group at the other end of the bar. As she turned around to see Wes again, he had faced the bar and was gathering up a couple of pitchers.

"Give me one?" she asked.

He handed her the one of the pitchers, while taking the other two in his large hands. Holding them over his head, he maneuvered through the crowd, blazing a path for Faith to follow. She watched his butt and almost tripped over a foot in the way. She really, really did need to get laid if she was thinking about Wes to scratch her itch. Yeah, sure he was sexy and all, but was so not right for her. Maybe Xander could accommodate her. But when she arrived back at the table, she could see that Willow had engaged him in a deep conversation. Then she thought about Spike, who was tossing those drinks back like they were water. No, too depressing. She eyed Giles up and down, but decided that he was way too much like a dad to her, or at least an uncle, so no go there. And Angel, just way too much angst and broodiness. So if there were no friends willing to give her a happy, she needed to pick up a stranger.

Sighing out her distress, Wesley bent over to whisper in her ear. "Something bothering you?"

"Nah. Nothin'. Doin' fine," Faith said as she slammed the beer down her throat, almost choking from the amount.

Damn it, she just wished he would quit getting so close to her. And she would have to stop getting so close to him. He backed away slightly, but still had his hand directly next to hers on the table. Angel's head came up from the conversation that he was having with Spike to glare at her. Now what'd she do? Wesley quickly jerked his hand away, crossing them over his chest. They were doing signals to each other? And they thought that women were hard to read.

The group sat and chatted for quite some time, sometimes talking about what happened in LA, but most of the time talking about what was happening with the Sunnydale contingent. That seemed to be a safer topic.

"Oh, man. That thing was huge. And Buffy, she takes the sword, and bam. No more ugliness," Willow went on, slurring her words slightly.

"Must have been fun," Spike added. "While we were getting our asses handed to us on a platter, you guys were playing with a Shikash demon."

"You coulda called," Xander told the vampire.

"Yeah, like you would have come running," Spike finished.

That shut the whole table up instantly. Faith knew that they wouldn't have come running, well, except her, which she did, just too late to make a difference. Giles still hadn't explained that one to her. Neither had Buffy. Faith didn't know whether she should get up and walk away to see if they would settle their differences, or she should start something between the two groups to see where it led. So she decided to get up and walk away for a few moments, just to see if something would happen.

"Be back. Little girls' room. Beer on the way," she said as she picked up one of the empty pitchers.

She received a few smiles in return. Placing the empty pitcher on the bar, she made her way back to the restroom. After finishing her business, she went up to the bar to order another round. Looking over at the table, each faction was talking amongst himself or herself, but didn't make eye contact with each other. Now why did she have to be the one in the middle?

Someone bumped her from behind, so when she turned to see if maybe Wes had followed her, she looked into the eyes of a man not too much older than she was. He was tall, muscular, straight brown hair and gorgeous hazel eyes. He smiled at her in return as he picked up his pitcher. His dimples were to die for.

"Hi," he said as he started to leave.

She tossed him a wicked smile back, thinking that she had just solved her problem of scratching that itch. Only she looked over the guy's shoulder to see Wes's reaction. Bad move on her part. He shot daggers her way, jaw clenched tight.

"Hey," she answered back, trying not to pay attention to the asshole at her table.

"You're American?"

"Yeah. You too?"

"Yeah. Been here about six months. At least they have decent beer."

"There is that," she said as she glanced Wes's way again.

She really needed to quit doing that. Why did she care what the fuck he thought?

"You here for work or pleasure?"

"Work. Just out with some friends tonight."

If you could call them friends, she wondered. Nah, she could. They'd take the damnplace apart if someone tried to start something with her. That she knew.

"Me too. Work, I mean. My friends are over in the corner."

The man pointed out a table with about six others gathered around it. Faith really just wanted to turn so that she didn't have to watch Wes's reaction any more, so she tried to maneuver the guy around to stay out of his line of sight.

"Yeah, I gotta group over there." Faith pointed out the gang at the table.

The guy's eyes narrowed a bit, but that was it. Faith noticed that reaction.

"Gotta go. Nice meeting you."

The guy was rabbitting before she had a chance of talking more with him.

"You gotta go so soon?"

"Well, yeah. My friends might want their beer."

"Let 'em wait," she smiled back at him.

She tilted her head, trying to give the guy the signal that maybe he might get lucky if he played his cards right.

"Faith?" Wesley called to her from over her shoulder.

She really wanted to turn around and smash him in the mouth right then.

"Our beer?" he finished.

The look on his face was unmistakable. He was jealous. Like she gave a good damn about his moods. He was off limits, so she was getting what she could while she could.

"Don't mind my friend, the dumbass. He's just grumpy all the time."

"Uh, maybe I should get back to my table."

Wesley asked the bartender for a bottle of scotch, leaning over between her and the new guy. She could feel the anger roll off of him in waves, but so could the new guy. He backed up a few paces as Wesley pulled the bottle from the bar and walked back to the table.

"He's, uh, a little intense."

"You're tellin' me," she mumbled.

They were gonna have major words in the morning, after that nasty hangover of his was over with. One bottle of scotch just for him? Until she saw that Giles had put his glass out too. Both of them would be sick as dogs.

"Nice to meet you," the man said as he started to walk away.

"What's your name?" she asked before he could escape.

"Sam," he answered quickly. "Yours?"

"Faith," she told him, realizing that Wes had already said it while the three had stood at the bar.

"Yeah," Sam said as he walked away.

That was the strangest conversation she had with a guy in a long time. Most of them didn't run away when she was flirting with them. This one did. And it was Wes's fault. Damn, stupid watcher. She just didn't want to admit that she was losing her touch.

Picking up the pitcher of beer, she weaved her way back to the table. Looking over at Sam again, she noticed that he was talking and pointing her way. The others at the table didn't look too happy. Slamming the pitcher down on the table, she yanked her chair out and plopped back down.

"Hey, no spilling the nectar," Xander quipped while he poured another beer for himself.

Wesley poured himself another scotch and handed the bottle to Giles. Instead of savoring the drink, he tipped his head back and downed it in one gulp. She even saw Angel wince a little.

"Faith, who was that man you were speaking with?" Giles chimed in.

Oh, great, now Giles was gonna get on her ass for talking with a guy. There was definitely going to be ground rules spelled out. They weren't her fucking parents, or brothers, or uncles or whatever.

"Why you want to know?"

"Because from what I remember, the man is a watcher trainee."

Faith almost banged her head on the table. No wonder the guy scooted out of her reach. He probably knew exactly who and what she was. Wes's little show didn't have the effect she thought it did. She could hear a little snort coming from beside her. It was really tempting to take her elbow and lay him out, but she restrained herself from taking down her watcher, at least in front of other people.

"Sam or something. Just makin' conversation. Being friendly."

Wesley slammed his glass down on the table. "Yes, Faith is such the friendly sort," he said with an edge to his voice.

Conversation ebbed and flowed between the groups, with Wesley just sitting and staring at the would-be watchers.

Giles' eyes widened at a new patron, so he got up to check it out. "I'll be back," he mumbled as he scooted his chair under the table. Faith thought that was funny, him always being the gentleman. Of course, from what Xander and Willow told her, Giles could be quite wild.

Wesley soon followed, not saying a word, but heading towards the restrooms since he drank like a fish, which was no surprise. At least half the bottle of scotch was gone, in addition to the multitudes of pitchers. Xander got up to retrieve more beer. Then Angel left, heading the way that Wes went. Spike was the only male now in attendance. The three women stared back at him.

"I need a cig," he said as he left with a flourish. Leave it to Spike to leave as dramatically as possible.

"Men," Willow said as she watched Xander at the bar, talking to a woman.

"You can say that again," Buffy agreed.

"They're so fucking stupid," Faith added.

The three giggled.

"So, Faith. You and Wes? And that guy at the bar?" Willow started in on her.

Faith could be buddy buddy with the witch, but did she want to? She guessed that they were the only female friends she had ever had. And she really needed their advice.

"Me and Wes? What, are you nuts? Figures the guy at the bar was a watcher baby."

Buffy started to laugh and accidentally snorted some beer up her nose in the process. "Oh God. I was just thinking about the Sunnydale Wes. Wouldn't it have been funny . . . ?"

"Don't finish that sentence," Faith warned her.

"You don't even know what I'm gonna say," Buffy said, slurring her speech.

"Am I gonna have to hit you afterwards?"

"No, I don't think so. I was just going to say, you have Wussy Wes and now you have Glarey Wes. Sort a weird in a strange way."

Willow just raised an eyebrow, shaking her head. "You're drunk."

"Nah. You just noticed," Buffy replied.

"That didn't make any sense, B."

"All I'm sayin' is that he's changed. You've changed. We all have changed. See, that was coherent." Both Faith and Willow shook their heads yes. "Besides, he's kinda sexy with those vibes he's giving off."

"Oh, shut it, Buffy," Willow said as she took another drink of her beer.

Willow told her best friend to shut up. Would wonders never cease? Not that Faith didn't agree with Buffy's assessment. It's just that it was look and no touch Faith here. She knew that. Unless Buffy didn't have that rule.

"So you're sayin' B, that you think he's hot?" Faith asked slowly.

"I would say," Buffy started, raising her beer to the other two women, "that these men are the hottest of the hot around here. A toast to all the hotness around us."

Willow dropped her head on the table and banged it a little. Faith thought about following, but Buffy was actually making a lot of sense. The beer must be working on her head too. Their guys were hot, if majorly off limits. Now she really did need a guy.

"Hello, ladies," a man said from behind Faith.


	3. Men Will Be Boys

Chapter Three – Men Will Be Boys

Giles followed the man that he had seen at the bar to the outside of the pub, to the alley behind. He knew exactly who and what he was following. It would have been nice to have backup, but in this instance he knew he could handle himself. The man wouldn't have revealed himself in such a way if he didn't want to just talk.

"Hello, Ripper," the man called out from the shadows.

"Why are you here?"

"Just came for a chat."

"Ethan, you never just come for a chat. You're always about causing grief in my life."

"Rupert, it isn't always about you, now is it?"

Giles really wanted to put his hands around the man's neck, to squeeze the life out of him. But he couldn't. Because if Ethan was in London, then something big was going to happen. It would be just like Ethan to come and taunt him about whatever he had planned.

"Then what is it about this time, Ethan?"

"Hmm. I shan't tell you, just yet. Just heed my warning. Never leave something that important unguarded. You never know what might happen."

Giles had no earthly idea to what he was referring. It could mean many things, which probably meant it would be something he wouldn't expect.

"Ethan, don't be cryptic with me."

"Sorry, old pal. I have to be getting on," Ethan said as he sank back into the shadows and disappeared.

Giles almost used a spell to find out where Ethan had teleported himself off to. But he stopped. He would figure out what Ethan was up to soon enough. He never could keep quiet about anything for too long. But Giles wanted to get the jump on the man before anything disastrous happened. Which meant research to see what Ethan might be after this time.

\----------------------

As Spike smoked his cigarette, he listened in on the short conversation between the watcher and that bloke Ethan. From what he remembered, that guy was bad news. Turning Giles into that demon hadn't been very nice. Although at the time, Spike had thought it was funny. Now he wouldn't wish that on anyone. If Buffy hadn't noticed in time, Giles wouldn't have been sitting there at that table, slamming down drinks with the rest of them. Of course, that meant that he wouldn't have been there when Angel asked him for help. They wouldn't have had to ask in the first place. Everything would have been different in Spike's eyes. Buffy would probably be dead by now. That was something he wouldn't have wished for the world.

But that Ethan character made him shiver a little. That guy was bad news with a capital B. And from the conversation, he was planning something big. Warning Giles about it either was stupid or ballsy. Spike just hoped it wasn't another apocalypse. He'd had his fill of those. Let someone else save the world in a ball of fire. He was done with the saving. He had more important things to save. Like himself.

\-----------------------

Wesley's head had that buzz he got from the copious amounts of alcohol that he had been slamming for the last couple of hours. It made him forget, at least for the moment, how much he hated the position he was in. On one hand he wanted to be Faith's watcher. On the other hand, he wouldn't grovel for the position, nor would he sit back while Faith groveled for him.

And her attitude that night pissed him off to no end. She flirted with every guy that came her way, including her so-called friends. Sometimes he wondered where her self-respect went. He just couldn't figure out where all the jealousy that bubbled up had come from. It wasn't like he wanted her for himself. But the thought of that snot-nosed kid with his hands on her enraged him. So he butted in where he wasn't wanted. Intimidated the man to piss off and find easier pickings. The guy got the message fast that Faith was under his protection. And there lay the rub. She didn't need, nor want his protection. Hell, she had to protect him most of the time.

Stepping back out of the way, he leaned against the wall near the pay phones to take a deep breath. He needed to gather some semblance of sanity before going back to that table. Angel had given him a pointed look, like he knew exactly what was troubling the man. Wesley didn't know what was troubling him either, so how could Angel?

As he pushed himself off the wall to face the music as such, a voice called out behind him. The voice that he really did not want to hear that night. He had enough to deal with, regarding Faith and Angel and the rest of them, without having to deal with the woman behind him. He knew this confrontation would have to take place. He was hoping for in the morning.

"Ms. Clairbourne? Are you following me?" he asked as he arched his eyebrow her way.

"Why on earth would I do that, Wesley? I was just in the neighborhood."

"Unlikely, but I guess you would never admit as much. What do you want?"

His assessment of her at the Council meeting was quite accurate. She wasn't a Lilah clone per se, but she did have some of the qualities of the lawyer. Her body wasn't as voluptuous as Lilah's and the hair color wasn't exactly the same, but the attitude was. The way she held herself was dead on. He wondered if this woman liked pain just as much as Lilah did.

"Why do you think I want anything from you?" she answered with a little disdain in her voice.

"I don't know you at all. All I remember is some awkward teenager with gangly legs. Who are you?"

Wesley closed in on the woman, to see if she would intimidate easily. She held her ground.

"You know exactly who I am, Wesley. You surprise me."

"How so?"

"I thought you'd be more like your father."

His patience had been wearing thin before her arrival, now it was in shreds. What he really wanted to do was wipe that look off of her face. Like she had just won a round in whatever competition she had created in her own mind.

"I'm not at all like my father."

"Oh, I beg to differ. But enough about that. You're friends are amusing."

So she got her shot in and changed the subject. She wasn't as skilled with the biting comments as Lilah was.

"My friends are deadly. Remember that."

"Not that I could forget, I assure you."

He stood before her, crossing his arms over his chest, trying to look into her eyes, to gage if she would run if he came any closer. There was no fear in her eyes whatsoever. He wondered what he would have to do to test to see if she would show fear in a situation.

"Did my father send you?"

Her eyes flashed briefly, like he hit the nail on the head. She was good, very good at disguising her emotions. Not as good as Lilah was, but good enough to defeat most people. Only he wasn't most people. He had been taught by the best. His father, then Angel, Lilah, they all taught him how to read those flashes, because if he didn't, he'd be dead. He really didn't want to go back to that status any time soon.

"Your father has no power on the Council anymore. We have changed."

"Clearly not enough."

"I could help you, if you like. I'm sure it would be nice to have a friend, who could shepherd you through, clear the way for you to return."

And what would he have to do in return for her little favor?

"Not likely. Besides, I already have enough friends, Ms. Clairbourne. I don't need any more."

"You think that Mr. Giles welds all the power? You are sorely mistaken."

He could see her anger rise a little at his presumption. But that wasn't what he was talking about. He kept his face neutral. Slamming his hand beside her head, he leaned over to whisper in her ear.

"And your assumptions are yours. You haven't the first idea about what makes me tick. Nor shall you ever. Stay away from me, stay away from my slayer. You wouldn't like the results if something were to happen to either one of us."

She turned her head to look directly in his eyes. He saw her swallow just slightly.

"Is that a threat, Mr. Pryce?"

"It's a fact. I never threaten."

Pushing himself off the wall, he walked away slowly, to see if she followed him back into the pub. Turning as he reached the doorway, he noticed that she had disappeared as quickly as she had appeared. Of course she had been following him. She wasn't there by mistake. Something was going on with the Council. And he didn't know whether he actually gave a damn.

\-------------------------

Angel followed Wes into the back, wanting to have a short conversation on his attitude towards Faith. He could smell the anger and possessiveness roll off of him in waves. Faith was on the prowl. Angel could see that. He didn't even want to go there on the senses part. But there was something else underneath the surface regarding Wes. Something that the man probably didn't even realize. That's what he needed to discuss with him.

Only he stopped short when he saw the lady from the Council. Since Angel was good at sliding into shadows and not making a sound, he listened in on the conversation. Not that he meant to, because he knew it was rude. He just didn't want Wes to know that he was eavesdropping.

He didn't know that Wes could be that intimidating. Not that it surprised Angel; he had just never seen the man be that intense with a woman before, unless it was Lilah. Oh, how he longed for the days when Wes was carefree and clueless. Those had been joyous times.

Sometimes he wanted that old Wes back, to the bumbling, accepting guy. The man threatening the woman who was pinned against the wall was the new Wesley now. One that he had to accept, a mixture of the lies he had told to save his son plus all the baggage that the man had gained in the last year.

\-------------------------

"Would you look over there?"

Sam's head came up to look over to where his friend had pointed. Straight over to the woman that had hit on him. Sometimes Dave was an ass; now was no exception.

"All alone and no one to buy them drinks. We shall remedy that situation quickly."

Only Sam wanted to stay away from trouble. He knew exactly who and what the three women were over at the table. He had listened in all the classes, to the history of Sunnydale. It was a course now, at the academy. He hadn't seen any pictures of them, but he figured it out quickly. And he could actually sense slayer power at its finest.

"Uh, Dave. Not a great plan. You saw Mr. Giles," Sam pointed out.

"So. He's gone. Let's explore," Dave chided him.

Dave, the Australian, surfer boy, all muscle and not much brain. Sam didn't know exactly how he had gotten entrance to the academy. Were they really that hard up that someone like him would actually get in?

"Your funeral," Sam muttered as Dave got up, in addition to two other watcher wannabes.

Not only did that girl Faith give him shivers, the man that had so rudely interrupted him did also. He looked familiar, but Sam couldn't place him at all. As a matter of fact, all the men at that table had looked dangerous. Even Mr. Giles had worried him. What would his Aunt Betty say to him now? See, told ya so. Those people are up to no good, she had told him right before he left for London.

Just like his friends were up to no good. Sure, the women at the table weren't any older than they were. After all, the three were quite beautiful. Only he knew they were dangerous in their own right. But it might be fun to watch his friends get their asses kicked by two slayers and a witch. So he followed behind, but didn't get too close.

"Hello, ladies. Could we buy you a drink?" Dave asked Faith, leaning over to look down her shirt.

Sam almost snickered in delight. He really wanted to see Dave get it where he deserved.

"You're a dumb one," Faith answered back, not looking up at him.

"Guys can be so stupid," someone said beside him.

Sam turned slightly to see one of the guys from Faith's table standing beside him, a pitcher in his hands. The guy with the eye patch stopped his forward progress, putting thebeer down on an empty table. Since it was getting late, thepub had emptied a little.

"Shit, I left my glass at the table."

The one-eyed guy grabbed a glass off an order that was going by.

"I need a drink," he said to Sam.

"What for?"

"For the show. Oh, look. Here come the others." The one-eyed guy actually snickered.

Sam could see the mean looking guy that had interrupted his conversation with Faith, followed by the glowery guy with the massive shoulders. Next, the man all in black came through, throwing a glance the one-eyed guy's way.

Sam thought he heard the word bugger from the cockney-accented man. He just hoped there wasn't any trouble.

"Here's what I don't understand. These guys are watcher trainees, right?"

So the one-eyed guy knew all the info. That was a plus when talking about his chosen profession, Sam thought.

"Why don't they know who they're hitting on? Think that it's great to hit on those women? Of course, there's the three broody guys heading that way. I just hope there's not a fight."

"So why don't we stop it?"

"Too much fun to watch."

Sam thought so too; he just didn't want to see them get into trouble with Mr. Giles, who was nowhere to be found at that moment.

"Who are those guys? I have no clue."

The one-eyed guy laughed. "You know what the ladies are? Just guess on the guys. Come on."

"I know that the dark one is Faith. The blonde is Buffy Summers, right?" The guy shook his head yes. "The redhead is Willow, the witch. Didn't she try to end the world?"

"Hey, three for three. You're good." The guy patted him on the back. "Now for the gentlemen about to kick those wannabe watcher asses?"

Then it came to Sam. He knew exactly who the man in the leather coat and shoulders was. "Holy shit," he exclaimed as he grabbed for a stake in his back pocket.

"Na. Don't do that. He's good. Trust me."

"But he's a," Sam started, but lowered his voice, "a vampire. Isn't that what we kill?"

"Yeah, mostly. Deadboy over there would agree. Cause that's what he kills too. The man in black beside him? Any guesses. Oh, wait. The hair. I forgot. Used to be peroxide blonde. And he likes railroad spikes."

Sam muttered the word fuck and advanced until the guy put a hand on his shoulder.

"They won't hurt your friends. Well, maybe a little, but no biting."

But from the look on the third man's face, he was the one that worried Sam. The same guy that had interrupted him at the bar. He looked like he could murder someone in an instant. Maybe he was the one that Sam could use the stake for. The aforementioned man took a step forward to be stopped by the two vampires.

"That guy's scary. Don't tell me a vampire too?" Sam asked.

"Nope. Just a very pissed off watcher. And there's Giles. Damn. Your friends are lucky."

The one-eyed man picked up his beer glass and the pitcher and started forward. Sam was never so glad to have stayed out of that mess. Mr. Giles would hand them their asses on a platter.  
Faith almost laughed out loud. To be hit on twice in one night. Of course, the last guy, Sam, seemed to be a nice enough one. The boy looking down her shirt wasn't. He was a sleaze, the kind she had dated often.

"What do we have here?" Willow snickered.

"Watcher assholes," Buffy chimed in.

One of the guys glared her way. Not that it mattered to Faith, anyway. These guys weren't even getting up to the plate, much less buying them a drink.

"They know what we are, minus the asshole part," the last one said as he made his way around to Willow.

"You see, here's what I don't understand," Buffy started.

"What? Like you ever understand, B," Faith laughed a little.

"Faith, our guests here. Makes me wonder what this world is coming to."

Faith knew that Buffy was egging the men on.

"Tall and broody at six o'clock," Willow added.

"My six or your six, Will?" Faith asked, wanting to be ready.

"Your six."

"So how 'bout that drink?" the asshole asked her.

"Sorry. One too many assholes in my life right now. Scram."

"You're rejecting me? I'm hurt," he said, playing with Faith's hair.

"You will be if you don't move your ass."

"Hey, lots of throwing around of that word, now. What would Giles say?" Willow asked.

The three stiffened at the mention of the watcher's name.

"You know him?" the man behind Willow asked.

"Yep. Middle-aged man, tall, green eyes. Wicked magic. Turns into a raving lunatic when I make his tea the wrong way," Buffy described Giles to a T.

"Giles is a nice guy, Buff. And he does have some wicked magic," Willow agreed.

"Hey, you should see Wes. Let me tell you, more than wicked. Makes me all hot just thinkin' about it," Faith said as she smiled Buffy's way.

"When did that happen?" she asked, ignoring the men trying to hit on them.

"We still need to talk, B. Lots and lots."

"He didn't delve into anything dark, did he?" Willow wanted to know, worried just at the mention of magic.

"Not sure. I just know that it's been hard," Faith responded. "You ever have to do that with Giles, B?"

"What?"

"Fucking baby him? I know, I know. Watchers in the line of fire and all. Playin' nurse isn't easy."

Faith could see the three had started to back away from them. Only they didn't get the chance to retreat fast enough.

"Faith? Why don't you introduce us to your new friends?" Wesley asked from behind them.

"As I told you before, I don't need no new friends. The ones I have are challenging enough, watcher o' mine."

"Uh, sorry. We were mistaken," the one behind Willow said as he inched away.

"Oh, now where are you blokes goin' so quickly?" Spike said as he approached behind Wesley. "We just came back."

"Spike, behave," Buffy admonished.

The one behind Buffy mouthed the word Spike and bumped into the chair behind him in an effort to get away.

"We could use all the new friends we can get," Angel piped up, arms across his chest, smiling like Angelus.

Faith almost giggled. The three men were going to make a scene if she didn't stop it now.

"David, what on earth do you think you are doing?" Giles said, a hint of anger in his voice.

"Uh, Mr. Giles. Excuse us. We were just leaving."

"Right you are. I do believe that you have weapons in the morning with Danforth. Doesn't he like you all up early?"

"Yes, right you are, Mr. Giles. Seven thirty to be exact. We are going."

The three guys scrambled away quickly, pushing patrons out of the way as they did it. Faith watched Sam follow behind, grinning at his friends' distress. She was so glad the nice guy hadn't joined in with the assholes. Her opinion of him went up a notch.

"Damn it, Xander. Where's my beer?" she shouted, Xander appearing a few seconds afterward.

"Don't look at me, Giles. Faith is an asshole magnet."

"Oh, gee, B. Thank you so fucking much."

"Hey, at least you're not a demon magnet. That just sucks," Xander quipped, making the ladies laugh.

The three broody men sat, with Wes pulling the scotch bottle his way. He poured a measure for the two vampires after he pour a generous one for himself. Giles held out his glass for a refill. All of them downed the amber liquid at the same time.

"Don't come cryin' to me when you're all puking your guts out," Faith added as she sipped her beer.

"Vampire, Faith. I can hold it," Spike told her as he poured himself another.

\----------------------

"Bullshit," Fred muttered as she watched Spike drown his sorrows.

This watching thing really did suck. Sure, she could speak with him in dreams and stuff. But she couldn't tell him how sorry she was, for what happened to him. He was so down in the dumps. And she hadn't figured out how to bring him out of it. He put up a good front for Angel and the rest of the gang. Fred knew better though.

Fred thought that the slayer, Buffy, would notice that something was off about the vampire. But she didn't. Maybe it would take time. Fred would see if she could drop hints here and there.

She still wouldn't look Wes's way, avoiding him as much as she could. But since he and Spike were now some kind of buddies, it was hard. Her mind was still so jumbled with lies and memories; she didn't know what to think. Not that it mattered. She was dead, soul returned to the correct plane. Floating in nothingness didn't help either. Everything was even more scattered than it was when she came back from Pylea.

"Anything?" Lindsey said from behind her.

"Nah. They almost started a fight. But Mr. Giles stopped it in time."

"Shoot. That might have been fun to watch."

"It's the last thing that Spike needs right now."

Lindsey sat down beside her. "Maybe a little violence will pull him back, get him back to where he needs to be."

"Not likely, but who knows. I really don't understand any of this," Fred explained, Texan accent becoming a little thicker as she talked with Lindsey.

Lindsey had listened to her from day one. He had been so patient with her, even to the point of helping her through a crying jag she had a few days before. Everything was so much more complicated now, she thought.

"So, any more new assignments?" she asked him.

"No. Not yet. That one last week was a doozy."

"Glad that I just have the one vampire to deal with."

"I get it. They give me the hard cases."

"It can't be easy. To see all that heartache and sufferin'."

"I'm dealing. I know what I have to do to atone."

Fred shook her head yes, like she could relate, which she really couldn't on any level. Lindsey had done so many questionable things in his life. One of which was to try and drive Angel insane with that creature that attached itself to him. But she could see in his eyes that he was sorry.

"You'll do it," Fred cheered.

Cordelia came rushing in, with Doyle on her heels, laughing as they threw themselves onto the couch by the table. The cottage had become a meeting place of sorts for the four each day, just to catch up and talk. Fred had a small room where she went to be alone after her day was done, but this felt like home. It had been hard to relax at first, when she arrived. Now she was more at ease. Having Cordy around sure did help.

"I won," Cordelia shouted, out of breath.

"Ha. No, no, my lady. You cheated," Doyle chided her.

"Fair and square. See what all that hard living did to you."

Doyle snorted as he closed the space between him and Cordelia. Fred sighed a little, envious that the two found happiness in this dimension, while Fred didn't know the least what her heart felt. Wes, Gunn, everything was so mixed up in her brain. She just wished it would stop. Lindsey picked her hand up and held it tight, like he knew that she was exasperated.

"So, guys. What's up?" Fred asked tentatively.

"Oh, nothin'. Just racin' the beautiful lady here. She cheats, you know," Doyle went on.

"Ha. Like you didn't cheat at those horse-racing tracks when you were alive."

"I did not."

"Did too."

"Did not," Doyle said, coming closer to Cordy.

"You two wanna make me barf," Lindsey finally said, squeezing Fred's hand lightly.

"Oh, shut it," Doyle answered.

"They're in London now," Fred whispered.

"I know," Cordy told her matter of factly.

"What'll we do?"

"Nothing. It'll be OK, Fred. Spike's in good hands."

"Not so sure about that."

"Mean bugger," Doyle mumbled.

"Doyle," Cordelia admonished him.

"I mean sorry bugger?" Doyle said, trying to comfort Fred.

Fred knew what Spike was before. That wasn't what he was now, she definitely knew. He'd do anything to help his friends. Just as he did for her when she was alive.

"Listen, I'm tired. I've been up all day, watchin' and all. Good night."

The three waved as she walked to her room upstairs in the cottage. She had chosen this room because it was cozy and so near her work. But she stopped at the top of the stairs to listen to her compatriots.

"Lindsey?" Cordelia asked.

"She's gonna be OK. My job, right?"

"Right, mate. Your job. And if you screw it up?"

"Doyle, I'm not dumb. You'll take my head off, I know. Get in line."

"Damn straight," Cordelia answered. "I'll be the first in line to do it."


	4. Misunderstandings and Apologies

Chapter Four – Misunderstandings and Apologies

Buffy met Faith in a training room later that day, still holding her head, but ready to train nonetheless.

"Beer bad. Why don't they tell you that?"

"Uh, kinda what beer is for, B. Getting drunk?"

"You're so smart, you know that," Buffy mocked her.

"Bitch. You're just doin' that to piss me off."

"Nah."

Buffy and Faith circled each other, wanting to work off all the excess energy they had built up in the past couple of days.

"Hey, patrol, tonight?" Faith asked, almost begging Buffy.

Faith really did need to go kill something, desperately. Since she hadn't had sex with anyone, the next best thing was to kill something. Of course, that would probably make the first problem worse. She really did envy Buffy at that moment. She hadn't slayed enough in the past couple of months. Faith wanted to get back in on the action.

"So, B. How's that new guy? Immortal something or other?"

"Kaput. Out the door. Man, I sure can pick 'em sometimes."

Oh, goody, Faith thought. Not the only one around here who's horny. Buffy might be in to giving her a rough workout.

"You're tellin' me. Men. Your comment last night? The hottest of the hottest? Very lame," Faith said as she lashed out with her foot.

"True. Not like we can do anything about it though. I hate them all."

Buffy took the opportunity to take a swing at Faith, missing because Faith saw it coming from a mile away.

"We need to hang with different people."

"At least different guys. Now I know why I haven't introduced any of them to Mark."

Who, what, where, when flew through Faith's brain, enough to break her concentration. Buffy had her down on the mat in seconds flat.

"Mark?" Faith asked as she flipped herself back into fighting position.

"Mark," Buffy sighed.

Faith almost made a face. Buffy was hot to trot for this guy. And Faith couldn't get any.

"New guy?"

"New guy. I guess I can introduce him to you," Buffy started, not sure that it was a good idea. "Just make sure you wear clothes."

Faith laughed at that thought. Did Buffy see her as competition?

"I mostly do. So, Mark? I need info," Faith said as she feinted to the left, and then went right.

"He's a nice guy," Buffy told her as she spun away from Faith's assault.

"You don't date nice guys. Even Captain Cardboard turned out to be not so nice."

"Hey," Buffy protested while throwing a kick Faith's way.

"Not my nickname. Spike. Who by the way hasn't said two words to you."

"I know. It just hasn't been the right moment. The guy has more lives than a cat."

Faith swung out and connected with Buffy's arm. Buffy winced slightly, but kept going.

"My watcher has more lives than that."

"I think Spike wins on the dying count. Yeah, tell me about your watcher. I'm surprised he's not here to watch," Buffy started, with the emphasis on the word watch, "over you."

"It's complicated."

Buffy connected with an uppercut to Faith's stomach, which sent her to the floor.

"I have time," Buffy answered, putting her hand down for Faith to take.

"Doubtful," Faith stood up, and stopped moving.

"You don't know what to do about him, do you? I'll have to admit, I don't blame you."

"What?" Faith asked, hands on her hips. She was getting annoyed with Buffy's line of questioning.

"Must have been some heavy stuff the two of you went through. It's only natural that there's some attraction."

"Whoa. Hold on there. You and Giles?"

Buffy raised her eyebrows. "Not on your life. He's just old."

"What is it with slayers and older men?"

"Xander never stood a chance."

Faith plopped herself down on the floor. Buffy soon followed, raising her knees up to cushion her elbows.

"We're a pair," Buffy started.

"With you, it's vampires."

"Yeah, with you it's watchers."

"Only one."

Buffy pointed to her. "See. Told ya so."

"Not going there, B."

Buffy waved to someone over Faith's shoulder. She turned to see a man enter the room. He was tall, lanky, glasses, almost a Wesley clone. Only this guy had darker hair and brown eyes. Buffy got up and greeted the guy with a kiss, a full on the lips kiss. Must be that new guy, Mark, Faith concluded. She almost snickered at whom Buffy was now dating. Slowly, Faith rose to greet the guy. Maybe she should warn him about Angel and Spike.

"Mark? This is Faith. Faith? This is Mark."

Mark stuck his hand out for Faith to shake. His grip was strong and firm. He didn't shy away from her one bit. Which meant the guy had some balls. Of course, dating Buffy meant that he did, to a certain degree.

"Mark works in Research. Matter a fact, he's the new head of Research," Buffy said, trying to make an impression on Faith.

"Fucking Wesley clone," Faith said under her breath.

Buffy stared at her sister slayer, but didn't retort back.

"Another slayer. I'll say, it's really good to meet you finally, Faith."

Faith almost groaned. And he was English. She wanted to run to Wes and tell him that he wasn't so bad anymore.

"Yeah, whatever. I need to find Wes so he can knock some sense into me."

"Huh?" Buffy looked at her funny.

"Nothin'. I really need to go."

"Faith? I would really like to chat with you when you get a chance. Along with Mr. Pryce. I hear he's a fascinating fellow."

Faith snorted at that comment. "Hardass, if you ask me. I'll see when he can talk to you."

"I've always admired him. It seems no one has ever gotten better marks in the linguistics department. And I need advice on how to go about replacing some of the more archaic texts."

"He's your man," Faith said as she startedto leave.

Oh, God, she really wanted to be in the room when Spike and Angel met this guy. It would kill the both of them. Sure, this guy was nice and all. But he was a geek. Buffy never dated geeks.

"See ya," Faith shouted as she accidentally backed into the doorframe.

"Tell Giles if you see him that I want to talk," Buffy asked her.

"Will do."

Buffy turned back to the geek, smiling up at him softly. Faith rolled her eyes upward. What was the world coming to if Buffy was dating a geek, Willow and Xander were doing something that she didn't even want to know, and she and Wes verbally spared daily, making her hot and horny as hell?

Tracking down that Sam guy seemed to be the best idea she had. At least he wasn't off limits to her.

\--------------------------------------------------------------

"Do you think that they will try to come after all of you?" Giles asked Wesley.

"I have no idea. Wolfram and Hart never does what one thinks they might do."

"Then we must plan. Obviously they are in a state of chaos from the Los Angeles office collapsing."

"Literally."

Giles and Wesley were in Giles's office. The view out the big picture window was spectacular, which was why neither Angel nor Spike could go into the room, unless the curtains were pulled. It was old world to the extreme. Dark wood furniture, bookcases surrounding the room, thick carpets adorning the floors. The only modern conveniences were the computer, fax machine and phone.

"Literally?" Giles asked, not knowing exactly to what Wesley was referring.

"As in no more. Didn't you know that the building collapsed?"

"That explains a lot. The Council was very worried that they would be able to put the operation back together quickly."

"How much does the Council know about the law firm?"

"Entirely too little, I'm afraid. Most of the records were destroyed, along with the people who had the knowledge."

Instead of sitting behind the big, ominous desk in the room, Giles was sitting directly beside him, as an equal. His father would have sat on that other side, judging him on how he had messed up the situation. Not that Giles hadn't ever judged him, because he very much had judged all of them in the past year. That was old news.

"I will get started on recreating those files for you. It shouldn't take me more than, say, two to three years. And that's just on the Los Angeles branch only."

"We have already started to rebuild what was lost. But you are right. It will take time. This Council will be different. I've seen to that. I have the dossiers on the members, like you asked."

Giles handed over the thick collection of paper files to Wesley. He still couldn't believe that Giles trusted him enough to go through these files. Since not too long before, he wouldn't even talk to Angel to help save Fred.

"Good," Wesley answered with a hint of melancholy in his voice.

"There are some other things that we need to discuss. I think that I need to apologize for my behavior."

Wesley was thinking about last night, but couldn't remember anything that Giles might have done to warrant an apology.

"Giles, my head is splitting, so I'm not following."

"I was wrong to not help when I was needed. Although I doubt I would have done much good."

"Fred," Wesley whispered. "It is over and done. You couldn't have known."

"I had no records regarding the Old Ones. In addition, there was no Council to speak of. Just remnants of the old one. Everything was in such chaos, I'm not sure who could have helped."

"Once the infection became apparent, I knew that we were too late."

"How long did it take?"

"A day perhaps."

Wesley hadn't spoken with anyone about what had happened when Fred was taken over by Illyria. Angel and Spike had been off in England trying to find a cure, while Gunn was with Knox. He had been by himself, to watch as Fred succumbed to the infection and Illyria took over.

"I am sorry."

"I know that you are. But the situation that we were in, to save an innocent life? The squabbling wasn't worth the price."

Giles solemnly shook his head in agreement. "We shall strive to do better."

"There cannot be a next time. They'll win. They almost did win. They took out too many of us, divided us until we were almost helpless."

"We aren't helpless any longer, now are we?" Giles told him, trying to convince Wesley and himself of that fact.

Wesley got up to pace the room. Were they ready if some other evil reared its ugly head? What if the Circle of the Black Thorn reformed itself? Wolfram and Hart was out there, ready to pounce on any mistake or perceived weakness. They had enemies, very formidable enemies.

"We're not prepared," Wesley said simply.

"We are as prepared as we can be, and we become stronger every day."

Wesley stopped his pacing to stand by the window, to look down at the beautiful afternoon scene. A few people milled about, a couple of slayers meditating, someone eating a sandwich in the sunshine.

"How many slayers do you have fully trained? How many watchers? Giles, from what I've seen, you are very far from being fully staffed."

"It will take time to do all that needs to be done."

Wesley turned to look pointedly at Giles. "You don't have that time."

"I will not send those girls out to be slaughtered. With proper training, they will succeed."

Wesleydid not want to go back to the old ways of training for watchers and slayers. It had been woefully inadequate in his time. Real world scenarios were never a part of histraining. They must be a part of the new regime.

"I am not criticizing you," Wesley wanted the older man to know.

"Yes, you are. Remember what I told you about criticizing me?"

"Fine. I won't criticize your methods. Just as long as you keep your snide comments to yourself about mine."

"You've actually learned something in the last couple of years. Amazing."

Wesley chuckled at Giles's banter. It was a little like sparring with Cordelia, but without as much venom. Giles was much more subtle.

"Yes. Cordelia's comments about me being Mr. Know-It-All have finally gone to my head," Wesley retorted back.

"You must miss her. She could be quite refreshing at times."

Wesley's face turned serious at the thought of Cordelia and what she meant to him. But he knew that she was in a better place, able to fight in her own way.

"She grounded us. Pulled us all together. Gave us purpose."

"That purpose has not gone away. There is still evil to fight."

Sometimes Wesley thought about the evil that had killed him. He had been given a second chance. Why was he wasting it on the very thing that took everything he cherished away from him?

Wesley placed his palm against the glass, feeling the warming tingle that accompanied it. Although it was quite hot that day, he still hadn't warmed up. He suspected it was the hangover. Faith was always plying him with warm drinks, tea, coffee, cider, whatever to take the chill away. Nothing worked. Only when she held his hands in hers for a while would it go away. Was it because he was dead at some point, or the magicks that he used to cure her?

Sighing, he looked down on the courtyard again, listening to Giles drone on about his plans for the Academy. He truly wanted to listen to what Giles was going to do, but his brain would not focus. Seeing the flash of dark hair down below made him stand up straighter. He hadn't seen Faith since her wakeup call. He assumed that she went to train. But looking down at what she was doing, it didn't look like training to him.

"Wesley? Is everything alright?" Giles asked as he approached the window.

"Faith," Wesley growled as he looked below.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Ah, damn it," Spike said as he walked into the library.

He just wished for one place where he wouldn't run into anyone he knew. The place was populated with people that asked how he was doing, did he need anything, etc., etc. He just wanted to find a dark corner and hide. The room he was staying in became too stifling. So he wandered the large townhouse that Giles had set them up in, wishing for sunset as soon as possible.

"I'll leave," Angel called out, shutting the book that he had been reading.

"No. Sit down."

Spike flung himself into a leather chair, propping his feet up against a table. He sat there, silent as can be, watching Angel shift in his chair uncomfortably.

"Spike, you know, if you wanna talk?"

"Bout what?"

"Everything. This brooding isn't good. I know."

"Not brooding, you stupid git."

"Maybe Faith would train with you. She might find something for you to hit."

"Oh, sod off. You just want me out of your precious, overly gelled hair."

"No, I don't. Leave the hair out of it."

"Can't. It pisses you off too much to let it go."

Angel sat forward, chin in hand. "At least you're still verbally sparring with me."

"Like that's any fun."

"Spike? Is it Buffy? You know, I'm sure that she'll talk to you."

"Don't really care."

No, that wasn't true, he thought. Spike really did care. He just didn't want anyone else to know it. He knew that Buffy had moved on to better pastures. Hell, he had tried to move on to better pastures, only to be slapped back down, again. Caring about someone else just took too much work.

Spike had made a decision before coming to England. He wasn't going to get close to anyone else. Every time he did, the person either died or hated his guts. That was why he was so glad that Nibblet wasn't around. Wouldn't want her to go dying on him too.

So Buffy could stay away from him, Willow could stay away. Hey, the boy could stay away. He even wanted Faith to keep her distance. It looked as if Percy had already gotten the clue. Now he wished that Angel would sign on to the plan and leave him the hell alone.

"OK. Whatever. I'll just leave you to your solitude." Angel rose to leave Spike to brood. "But at some point, you will need to talk about whatever is bothering you. Before it eats you up inside."

It already had, Spike thought.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

Fred banged her head against the wall in frustration. Spike was turning out to be a harder case than she had ever imagined. Depressed wasn't a harsh enough word for what he was becoming. She really did need to think of more drastic measures to snap him out of it. He was making her feel it too. At least Angel tried to comfort him.

But what if she failed? Would he stake himself? Let up in some fight and have some demon dust him? That wouldn't be good, she thought. Walking outside the cottage, Fred paced back and forth around the small house, going over what she could do to at least make him feel better about himself.

"Do you always gesture like that?" Lindsey asked as he came upon her wildly flailing arms.

"I'm thinking."

"Definitely not about gardening." Lindsey pointed to her feet, which had trampled some daisies.

"Oh, phooey," Fred stomped.

"Tell me what's wrong," Lindsey implored her to do.

"What ya think?"

"He'll come around."

"You've said that way too many times."

"Maybe because I believe in you."

"Ha," Fred challenged, not sure whether she believed in herself anymore.

She really wanted to do a good job. Spike was important to her. He had treated her as an equal. Well, as equal as one could be with a ghost. He didn't patronize her like Angel and the rest did. She wasn't the weakling, the damsel in distress. Of course, that's how she ended up. Handsome men couldn't save her from the monsters.

Instead, this time she would save the handsome man, vampire, from the monsters. His own monsters.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Faith explored the compound that housed the Watchers' Council. Since it was a bright, sunny day, she walked the grounds, soaking in the rays. Her shoulders were getting a little pink by the time she decided it was time to find her watcher. She hadn't really talked to him since the incident in the hallway. But she had no earthly idea where the man would be. The place was just too damn big. She didn't even know where the exit was, to be able to find the townhouse where they were staying in across the street.

Every time she tried to stop someone, they hurried away. Her reputation must be common knowledge. If someone didn't tell her where Wes was or how to get out of this place, she was gonna slam someone against the wall and get some answers.

Only the next someone she saw was her buddy Sam from the bar. His dark blue t-shirt and jeans didn't look like watcher wear. She expected everyone to have a uniform or at least look like Wes did in Sunnydale. Sam was not the basic fuddy-duddy watcher. As a matter of fact, he looked quite yummy. Waving to him, he froze like a deer caught in the headlights. The woman who had been talking with him scowled and strode away quickly.

"Sam, long time no see," Faith quipped as she bounced his way.

"Hello, Faith. I'm glad to see you recovered from last night."

"Yeah. You outta seen the rest of them. Wes was pukin' his guts out and Giles looked like he got run over by a truck."

Sam just smiled her way. "Faith, there is something I'd like to ask you, though. Since you're so successful at what you do. Isn't it against the rules to fraternize with your watcher?"

Faith almost choked. What the hell were they teaching the baby watchers? Hell, the only reason why Buffy was alive and kicking was because Giles gave a damn about her. They weren't machines to be used by the Council. Nothing had changed. Either Giles didn't care about what these guys were learning, or he thought that the old ways would work. Still, Giles needed a good swift kick in the ass either way.

"Get your fucking head out of the books. Controlled circumstances be damned. Go patrolling with us tonight. It might be fun."

Sam scowled at her. "Not on the agenda."

"Figures. It should be. You need to learn how to kick ass just as much as I do. Just ask Wes or Giles. They'll tell ya."

"I'm sure. Look. Nice talking to you."

Faith really needed to stop talking about Wes and Giles around the newbie. He would think that she wasn't interested in him, like she had Wes on the brain.

"And Sam?" Faith asked as he started to walk away.

"Yeah?"

"You're not my watcher," she answered.

Before she let him go, she wanted him to know that she was interested. He wasn't off limits to her, unless Giles told her so. Sliding a finger down his face, she gradually made her way down his throat, watching it hitch a little as she reached his collarbone.

"Yes, I know that, Faith," he explained calmly.

"So, what'll ya say?" she said as she trailed the finger down his arm now.

"Uh, Faith. Isn't that your watcher?"

Not now, she raged in her mind. He would be so fucking sorry once she got a hold of him. She growled low in her throat, making Sam back up slightly.

"I'm gonna kill him," she said with a fake smile on her face.

"It's just some guy just tackled him. I think it's one of those guys that was with you last night."

Faith turned to see Angel and Wesley wrestling in the corridor. Now what happened?

\------------------------------------------------------------------

All Angel wanted to do was talk with Wes. Not cause a problem. Angel had figured out how to get to the Watchers' Council via the tunnels. He scared the living daylights out of some guard as he opened a door from the basement. He really needed to talk to Giles about security. But now all he had to do was find Wes and sit him down, or hold him down if he wouldn't listen.

As Wesley barreled around the corner and straight into Angel, he decided that now was a good a time as any. Wes hadn't said much to him, other than a few words here and there since they arrived in England. They really hadn't spoken about things in a long time. That bothered Angel.

"Hey, Wes. What's up?" he winced as he asked the question.

"I'm busy," Wesley ground out, obviously not in the mood for conversation.

"I just thought, you know, that we would have time to talk. It's been quiet. Thought maybe we could sit down, have a chat."

"As I said, I am very busy. If you'll excuse me," Wesley said, brushing Angel off.

"You know, I just wanna talk. You keep avoiding me," Angel shot back.

"I'm not avoiding, Angel. I just don't have the time right this instant."

"Do I need to make an appointment?" Angel asked, obviously getting irritated.

His head still hurt from the alcohol that he had consumed the night before. He had lost count on the beer, scotch, and lastly whiskey that he had consumed. Letting his hair down did have its disadvantages.

"Maybe you should," Wesley told him, pushing past.

Angel grabbed his arm to stay his progress. "This is just gonna fester until we get it out in the open." Angel dropped his arm when he saw the look on the former watcher's face.

"Get what out into the open, Angel?" Wesley asked, putting his hands on his hips.

"Well, whatever your problem is."

"I don't have time for this," Wesley announced, turning to leave.

"Listen. I'm trying here. I wanna be friends."

"Then don't lie to me. Don't make decisions for me. Don't treat me like I'm a child."

"I never did that. I mean the child thing. Wes, this is . . . ," Angel started.

"Not working. Maybe you should go back to Los Angeles."

Angel didn't want to go anywhere until they had settled their differences. He was too important to Angel. He wanted some semblance of normalcy back in his life. Nothing like it was before though. Angel couldn't go back in time. He just wanted his friends with him.

"Not yet. Besides, you and Faith?"

"I do not need a chaperone. It is none of your business," Wesley started to raise his voice.

Angel shook his head. "This time I'm not the last to know. Something is going on."

"Nothing is going on," Wesley growled back.

"Oh, yeah. I don't think so, mister. I can smell it," Angel confessed.

Wesley's fist connected with his nose before he could hold up an arm in defense. He sure packed much more of a wallop behind those punches than before, Angel thought as he dove for Wes, taking him down to the ground.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sam didn't know what to think. One minute, Faith was flirting mercilessly with him. The next minute, she was talking about her watcher like he was her best friend, or her lover. It confused the hell out of him. He really did like her. He didn't know her though. Just rumors and such. He did have to admit she was hot with a capital H.

He followed her progress to the fight in the corridor, maybe to help, but probably just to stay out of the way. The two men were rolling around, throwing punches. They were acting like children, or brothers. It was kind of like he was with his younger brother. The punches were there, but not that much power behind them.

"Stop it," Faith yelled as she tried to pull the two apart.

Two others approached. Sam recognized the other woman, slight blonde woman, as the other slayer, Buffy, from the pub last night. She moved to help Faith pull them apart, getting in front of the dark-eyed guy. Faith got the other man and put her arm around his to stop him. The guy that came with Buffy stood off to the side. He didn't look like he could take any of them on. Smart guy to stay out of the fray.

"What is going on?" Buffy asked.

"Thanks for the help," Faith said to Buffy as she held her watcher. "Neutral corners."

The two men glared at each other intensely. Sam was so glad not to be in the middle of that one. The two must hate each other with a passion.

"If you two don't solve your differences, I'm gonna beat the shit outta both of ya. This has gone on long enough," Faith told them.

"Ask him why he hit me?" the big, scowly guy questioned Faith.

With that, the tall, lanky Englishman walked away without a word. He calmly strode down the corridor without looking back.

"Well, I think there might be another time to speak with Mr. Pryce," the guy that had accompanied Buffy said.

Faith followed her watcher without a backward glance at Sam. Sure, she'd flirt with him, but when her watcher was around, she only had eyes for him. Sam wasn't going to get in the middle of that for anything.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

Wesley raced down the corridor, trying to get away from what had just happened. Angel was not correct in his assessment. Wesley didn't have any kind of designs on Faith. He just wanted what was best for her.

"Will you wait up?" she called out to him.

He kept his fast pace up until coming to an empty conference room. Slowing down, he walked into the room and placed his hands on the table to steady himself. He really didn't want a confrontation with Faith also. He really was not in the mood to tangle with her.

"Looks like you got a couple of good shots in. I'm impressed."

Wesley breathed in and out to calm his nerves. He hadn't wanted to hit Angel. His fist connected because he had let his anger get the best of him.

"He must have really pissed you off. Wanna talk?"

"Why is it that everyone thinks I need to talk?"

"I dunno. Maybe it's the attitude."

Wesley turned to look at her. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned up against the table, wanting to be enlightened by her wisdom.

"Hey, my MO. Hit first, talk later. Not a good plan."

Wesley sighed in frustration. She was entirely right. He hadn't thought about the consequences. Angel thought there was something between the two. He wanted to prove him wrong. Punching him surely didn't do the job he thought it would.

"No. It wasn't."

"Do I need to pat you down for weapons? I don't want you going all postal on the next unsuspecting asshole that comes your way."

"It was my fault, entirely."

"Yeah, sure," she answered, unconvinced. "Somehow, I think no matter what, Angel will get under your skin."

Wesley hung his head down, disgusted with himself that Faith was right. Angel knew exactly how to get under his skin. And he let the vampire do that to him every time. Faith touched his chin and raised his head to look at her. When had she grown up? She was acting like the adult, not he.

"I'll apologize."

"Cool off first," Faith asked. "Whatever is going on between you two, we need you both. You need to solve this."

Faith placed her cool hand against his reddened cheek. Angel had at one point dragged it across the ground, luckily not doing much damage. Stepping closer, she placed her other small hand on his chest, making his breathing hitch just a little.

"I don't know how," he honestly told her.

"Ya gotta. I'm chargin' you guys the next time I have to play bouncer," Faith snickered.

That was when he realized that she had moved entirely too close, into his personal space as Cordy called it. It wasn't making him feel uncomfortable. But it was making his body feel a bit warmer. He wanted to set her away from him, tell her that her caring was appreciated. Her eyes darkened as she came even closer.

"Wesley," a voice called from the door.

Not now, not now, he chanted. He wasn't ready for this. And not after the position he was in with Faith. Taking Faith's hand and pulling them down, he straightened his spine for the onslaught.

"Hello, Father."


	5. Holding on to the Edge

Chapter Five – Holding on to the Edge

Faith could see Wes's shoulders tense up, spine straighten until it almost cracked, stiff upper lip even stiffer than it was when he was in Sunnydale. Slowly turning around to face the older man, she placed her fists on her hips.

The blue eyes were the same in color, but the elder Wyndam-Pryce's were cold and calculating, while Wes's were warm and inviting. They weren't the beautiful, brilliant blue that she always associated with Wes. His were dull and a little scary. Hell, Wes's eyes were even more beautiful than most girls. This older man in front of her probably always had an edge to him, making him look worn before his time. He was a bit shorter than Wes, but imposing in personality. Just like she could be if pushed too far. So she stood her ground, directly in front of her watcher.

"They said that you had made an appearance before the Council yesterday. Why did you not speak with me beforehand?"

"I did not even know you were informed of my arrival."

"Yes, it did come as a bit of a shock."

Yeah, the guy must have flipped when he heard that Wes was alive. No more partying because of the loss of his son. Faith wanted to smack the smug look off the guy's face.

"I do apologize. Why are you here, Father?"

"Oh, I have business to discuss with the Council."

Faith didn't know whether Wesley was gonna introduce her or not. She bet that the older guy knew exactly who and what she was. Probably was the cause of the sneer every time he looked at her.

"Father, I don't believe that you have been introduced to Faith."

Boy, Faith wished she could look at Wes right then. The look of disgust on his father's face was just so wrong.

"Yes, the girl who single handedly destroyed your career, your very life. What I do not understand is why she hasn't been put down."

Wesley's hand came up to her arm, holding tight. She wasn't moving toward his father, well, not too much anyway. She knew that the guy just wanted to get a rise out of her. Or maybe he had other motives?

"Now who's the murderer," Faith muttered.

"Father, those were the old ways. We don't murder people just because they've displeased us."

Good, Wesley was taking her side, for now. His grip lessened just slightly. The coldness of his hand sent a small shiver down her spine. Maybe the heat of her arm would warm him.

"Her displeasure for you ended with a torture session if I do remember correctly."

"What happened between Faith and myself is between us. We have forgiven . . . ," Wesley started.

"Forgiven? She tried to kill you, boy. That's why you should have done your duty in the first place. If you had, maybe, just maybe the Council would still employ you. Instead, you chose not to do it. And the situation we are in now? If a new slayer had been called, maybe the Council would still be intact."

"What situation? The situation you helped create? Your ways are outdated. Killing Faith would have not solved anything."

"You have no power here, boy. You never will. You will always be a disappointment."

Wesley's hand became much warmer on her arm, almost to the point of burning a little. Her skin tingled, hairs at the back of her neck stood on end. She had to speak up. To defend Wesley from this asshole in front of her. But first, she had to calm Wesley, because she could feel something changing in him just by feeling the touch of his hands.

Faith finally spoke up. "He's not the one who got the Council destroyed. He's not the one who couldn't defeat the First. We did, without the help of you jackasses here in England."

"You will not speak to me with such insolence."

"Ah, come on," she postured. "I haven't enjoyed a good smackdown lately."

Wesley's other hand caught her before she could take another step. He walked closer to her until their bodies were touching just slightly.

"Wesley, you will control this girl, or I will have her removed."

Only Faith didn't hear him any longer. The close contact with Wes blocked out everything else. She could feel his heart beat, feel him breathe in and out, hear his feet shifting just slightly. The rushing of his blood roared through her ears. And deep down inside of him, a darkness started to rise. She could feel him struggling to control it, like he would lash out and burn his father to ash. So she did the only thing she could think of, which was to think calming thoughts. If she could feel his turmoil, could he feel her trying to be calm?

Whatever had tried to escape from him was tamped down for the time being.

"You cannot, Father. She is my slayer. She always will be," she finally heard Wes say.

Taking her hand, he led her out of the room and away from his father. Just after they rounded the corner, out of sight of the jerk, Wesley slumped against the wall, panting.

"Wes, what the fuck just happened?" she whispered.

Looking into his eyes, she saw that familiar, yet scary face he had made when Vail had tried taking him over.

"Let go, Faith," he growled out to her.

Before she could do as he asked, a major jolt of electricity shot out of his arm into hers, arcing her body in the air, and slamming it into the wall behind her. Her head smacked really hard against the wall, making her scream in pain.

 

Willow wasn't having a good day. A really crappy day, if anyone had cared to ask her. Everyone was angry with her, even Buffy, who hadn't talked to her after the incident in the hallway. No one understood, except maybe Xander. That's what he was for her, Mr. Understanding Guy. Why didn't anyone see that? They were just friends, best buds. That was it. They had talked for hours, until he had fallen asleep on her bed. Sure, they snuggled, but no hanky panky went on. Spike must have been imagining things. They were so over each other. Besides, she had Kennedy.

Who was she fooling? She didn't have Kennedy. She would never have Kennedy. They were like two ships passing in the night. Kennedy was roaming around South Africa at the moment, still rounding up potential slayers. She had pointedly told Willow not to come with her, which seemed strange since they were girlfriends. Willow still didn't know what she did wrong.

Standing outside Giles's office, she took a deep breath, not wanting to speak with the man, but knowing she had to get it over with. He would probably lecture her on her sleeping arrangements, tell her that it wasn't appropriate. But nothing, really nothing went on. And besides, she was an adult. So no with the lecturing.

As Willow touched the doorknob to enter Giles's office, her hand tingled. Now that was strange, she thought. Her breath caught in her throat the next instant. Dark magicks, the blackest of the black poured over and out her veins. Using her mental chants that the coven had taught her, she grounded herself almost instantly. Letting go of the doorknob, she took several cleansing breaths. Where had that come from? It was then that she realized that it hadn't emanated from her.

"Oh, shit," she squeaked out to no one, taking off at a fast run down the corridor.

She knew exactly where it had come from. And she had to find him before he went off the deep end and killed every one of them.

Racing as fast as her feet would take her, she saw Buffy, Angel and the new guy Mark in the distance. Not wanting to stop and explain, she decided the best course of action would be for them to join her, just in case she might need some physical muscle.

"Will, what's wrong?" Buffy called out as she approached.

"No time to explain. Just come on," she panted out as she sped up again.

The three followed in her wake.

 

Giles tapped his pencil on his desk nervously. Clarisse Clairbourne had just informed him that Roger Wyndam-Pryce wanted to speak with him. He didn't want to deal with the ponce at all, but the man still had some influence on the Council. As a matter of fact, he was coming to his office right then. Not much notice. He would have to inform his fellow Council member that his schedule wouldn't allow for such meetings on short notice. Not that it would matter to Clarisse.

He knew that the man was angry from being forced to retire. But it was for the best. Wesley had been completely right in his assessment that they needed a change in the Council and its methods. The changing world had called for that long ago. But the Council stuck with its outdated methods, which probably resulted in the fact that they were all but eliminated a little less than two years prior.

Giles wanted a clean slate. There were still a few members alive, but Giles had insisted that they retire, with full benefits. Most had taken that chance because they were much too old to start over. New blood was needed for that radical of a change. The Council that had formed most recently for the most part were smart, sensible people. People who were at the top of their professions. With his guidance, they would be successful. Once they started working as a cohesive unit, that is.

Giles stopped the tapping, turning the pencil back and forth. He wasn't sure why on earth his attention was on the pencil and nothing else. Snapping it in two pieces, he let them fall to the desk with a soft clatter.

"Oh dear God," he whispered as he staggered out of his chair. Why hadn't he seen this coming?

Wrenching his office door open, he caught sight of Willow running fast down the corridor. So she felt it too, he thought. He took off after her.

 

Spike had drifted off to sleep in the chair that he had deposited himself in after his little conversation with Angel. He hadn't wanted to move any more than he had to, so he just stayed and got comfortable. Sleeping during the day was a little safer. His dreams weren't as vivid and horrid. Sometimes they were even quite pleasant, if he could control how they turned out. But most of the time he couldn't.

The dreams took him under so deep sometimes, he wondered if he would wake up. Not that he cared one bit. He'd lived too many nightmares in his long life. As he walked through a forest in this dream, he realized that he had done this before. Was it in a dream or reality?

It was dark and quite foggy. The only sound came from the fallen leaves as they crunched under his boots. The trees all around him were old and gnarled, like they had been there for centuries. Where had he seen this before?

He slowly approached one of the larger trees, just to see if he could climb it and get the layout of the land. But as he walked up to it, something dark came bursting out, making him fall to his knees in pain.

"Protect," a voice whispered. "You must protect it."

"I don't understand," he said through the pain.

"From beneath you, it devours."

Oh shit bloody fucking hell, no. Not the First again. It couldn't be. The Hellmouth was sealed. He went poof, burning to a fiery death to do that. As he raised his head just slightly, he saw a patch of blue against the darkness. Lowering his head to the cool ground, he rocked back and forth, trying to gain some strength to get the hell out of there. Only when he raised his head again, he was thoroughly shocked at the vision before him. He must be seeing things.

"You are my warrior," Illyria spoke to him, decked out in the familiar blue and her leather get-up, still sporting Fred's face, Fred's body. "Protect what is left unguarded."

She touched his face, sending fire traveling down through his head to his very toes.

 

Fred screamed. One of those full out, in pain, I am scared to death screams. The fire that burned her probably would have caused serious harm if she weren't already dead. Gasping for air, she crawled over to a corner, to hide from whatever Spike had just experienced. The shakes that had overtaken her wouldn't stop. Spike had been touched by something not of this world. Why did it affect her?

Tears spilled out unchecked. Curling herself into a ball, she tried to wait out the pain, but it wouldn't go away.

"Wake up, Spike. Wake up, Spike," she asked of him, hoping that would solve both of their problems.

"Please, please, please," she now begged, wanting to end the agony she was going through.

Another gut-wrenching scream accompanied Spike finally getting the clue and waking up. The pain ceased for her and for Spike. Sobbing, she laid her head down on the cool wood floor, trying to catch her breath.

That wasn't supposed to happen, her fogged brain thought. She wasn't connected to him physically, only to watch and help. What had changed? Slowly, she rose on shaky legs. Using the furniture as a crutch, she made her way over to the screen to view what Spike was up to now. He sat in the chair he had fallen asleep in, rubbing his head vigorously. She wished she could be in front of him, to comfort him, assure him that whatever had just happened, that she would be there for him. But she couldn't. He was awake.

Closing her eyes, she walked forward and disappeared from the room where she just been standing. Spike couldn't see her. She just wanted to check out for herself first hand that he was all right. The tear that escaped and was quickly rubbed away made her heart break. He was barely holding on to his sanity. She needed to figure out what was wrong with him.

She put her hand over her mouth, like he would hear her small cry of frustration, holding in her emotions. His head tilted up and looked directly her way.

"Fred?" he croaked out.

"Oh damn," she gasped. Spike can see me.

 

Who in the hell was babbling, Faith thought as she clasped her head between her hands? It really was making her roaring headache much worse. Pulling her hands to the front of her face, she saw the blood that she thought might be there. She must have hit the wall really hard.

Raising her head, she caught the sight of Wesley on the opposite wall, arms wrapped around his folded legs. He rocked back and forth, mumbling to himself incoherently.

"Wes?" she called out to him.

She knew she hadn't been out for more than a minute, but the back of her head still hurt like a son of a bitch. Slowly, she crawled over to him, but not touching.

"Wesley," she called out gently to him.

She could make out a few words here and there. It sounded like he wanted someone to stop doing something to him, but she wasn't sure. Taking a chance, she reached out her hand to touch his arm, hoping that it was safe for her to do so. She laid one finger lightly just to test whether it was safe. Ending up being slammed again wasn't on her to do list. But she had to get through to him, to make sure he wasn't a danger to her or himself.

Nothing happened, so she took another chance and wrapped her hand around his arm, just to get his attention.

"Wesley, talk to me," she begged him.

His skin was so cold to the touch that she just wanted to gather him up in her arms. As she kneeled beside him, she tried to figure out just why they ended up on opposite sides of the corridor, her sporting a nice, new slice to the head, and him shaking like a leaf.

"Faith, don't touch him," Willow yelled from the other end of the corridor.

Nothing happened this time, so what was her beef, Faith thought?

"Wes. Come on. Snap out of it. We need you here."

She had to get through to him. So instead of listening to Willow, she wrapped her arms around him. Big mistake, she thought. Should have listened to the witch.

How could he have lived with all of this for so long, went through her brain? She saw every bad thing that had ever happened to him, in surround sound, which made it all that more real. He was berated by his father, locked under the stairs, never held, never told he had done a good job. She saw flashes of the cruelty that he had endured as a child, as a teenager. She felt all his insecurities, all his doubts, all his pain. Sunnydale was just a fast blur, other than the rage that he felt at being dismissed from the Council. His sense of belonging was shattered by Angel, then his other friends in such a short time, she wondered how he didn't end it all after his throat had been slashed. He was so lonely, so ridden with guilt over losing Connor, disappointing Angel. Did he know, did Angel know? With his memories of Connor erased, his mind eased somewhat, only to be overwhelmed with Fred's death. Then Illyria, Angel's betrayal, the battle, Vail stabbing him, she could feel it all.

"Faith, let go," Giles implored her to do, but she couldn't.

Angel reached down to pull them apart, but Giles stopped him.

"Faith. It's the magicks. He's on overload. Just let go," Willow cried.

Faith was finally able to pry her arms from around Wes. "Oh, fuckin' A," she muttered as she crumbled to the ground, sinking into oblivion.

 

Willow wished that Faith could have listened to her. She was feeling the effects too, stomach rolling at the dark magicks floating in the corridor.

"It's dissipating. How's Faith?"

Buffy was leaning over the other slayer, checking her vitals. "Got a big gash on the back of her head."

Mark came running with several napkins from the conference room. "Here. Let me help."

Wesley was still totally incoherent, but calm now. What was happening to him? Not exactly the same thing that had happened to her, that was for sure. He wasn't in control at the moment.

"Giles? What's going on?" she asked the older man, trying to make sense of what she was feeling.

"The way he was brought back. The mage used dark magicks to accomplish his goal. It wasn't until after Wesley had performed the spell to bring back Faith's slayer abilities that I figured out that probably wasn't the best course of action."

"What?" Angel yelled. "You said it was fine."

"Not fine, not fine. Let it go," Wesley muttered to himself.

"I thought it was. Until I did a little more research. It was ages before Willow could perform a spell and not turn dark again. I didn't give it enough time."

"Damn it, Giles. You of all people should know," Willow cried.

"Listen, guys. We need to get Faith to a doctor. She's gonna need stitches."

Angel knelt in front of Wesley, not touching him.

"Don't touch him," Willow warned, not wanting someone else to go through what Faith had gone through.

Yes, it had taken her a lot of time to be able to control her abilities, months as a matter of fact. Only with Giles and the coven's help was she able to channel her energies to do good.

"We have to move him," Angel announced.

"I can do it," Faith croaked out, struggling to sit up from the hard ground.

Mark and Buffy helped her up, holding on both sides to make sure she didn't crumble again.

"You cannot, Faith. You don't have the strength," Giles told her.

"You don't want to touch him, Giles. None of you want to touch him. I've seen it. He won't hurt me."

Faith shrugged off her two helpers. Willow so didn't want Wesley to go through what she did. Pure rage and grief had triggered her slide into the dark side. What had triggered his?

"Giles?" Willow started.

"I know. A million questions. Most of which I don't have the slightest clue how to answer. We will need to isolate him."

"Giles, maybe I can touch him, help ground him."

"No. Do not touch him, Willow," he demanded.

"She won't touch him, Giles," Buffy told him, coming up beside Willow.

Faith bent down to Wesley's level, trying to coax him into standing. "Wes, why don't we find a nice, quiet room."

"Don't put me under the stairs."

"Oh God," Angel gasped.

"You know what he's talking about?" Faith asked.

"His father used to do it to him when he was a child."

Willow's parents may have been ambivalent about her, but they never treated her cruelly. She couldn't fathom why someone would treat his own child this way.

"Giles, he's here. Wes's father. Find him. Get him the hell out of here. He triggered this, somehow. I could feel it building as Wes was talking to him," Faith explained.

Mark volunteered. "Don't worry. I'll find him."

Buffy nodded her thanks as Mark made his way back towards Giles's office. "Back to the townhouse?" she suggested.

"For now. At least until he is coherent enough to travel," Giles told everyone.

"Wes, hon. Take my hand," Faith implored him to do.

His hand came away from his legs slightly, giving Faith the opportunity to grab it. She slowly helped him to his feet, supporting most of his weight until he was steady on his feet. He was still muttering to himself though.

"Don't take the baby, Justine. Don't take Connor," Wesley said under his breath.

Willow saw the lines of anguish on Angel's face as Faith passed him with Wesley. "Who's Connor?" she asked.  
By the time Faith led Wesley to his room in the townhouse, she was shaking inside and out. She relived all those horrible moments with Wes from just touching him. He was lost in his own mind now, not able to pull out of the nightmares. Gently helping him into the bed, she tucked the covers around him, sighing as she finished.

"Faith? I'll stay with him," Angel announced from the doorway.

"Just for a minute. I have to go throw up now," she calmly told Angel.

Silently stepping into the bathroom, she shut the door and proceeded to empty her stomach of its contents. Rinsing and wiping her tear-streaked face, she looked at herself in the mirror. To see, to feel exactly how Wes felt as she sliced him up was too much. She didn't know if she had it in her to go back into the bedroom and help him. Balling up her fist, she slammed it into the mirror, shattering it into pieces. The act somehow calmed her, making her focus on her pain instead of his. Rinsing the blood off, she wrapped her knuckles in a towel and went back into the room to help Wes.

 

 

"I can see you. I'm still sleeping," Spike announced.

"Yeah, that's it. You're sleeping. Just lie back down," Fred told him as she started to back away.

"But you know, I can't seem to wake myself up. Strangest thing."

Spike got up and came towards her. She passed through a chair as she backed away from him. He stopped short when he saw what she had done.

"Whoever is playin' with my mind, get out, damn you. I know what you're trying to do. It won't work. It didn't before."

"No, you're right. It didn't work, Spike. So I'll just be going," Fred replied.

"Why are you here? Is this somebody's idea of a sick joke? Scare the vampire with a ghost of someone whose soul has been destroyed."

Well damn, he had her there on that one. He thought she was still floating in the ether of nothingness. Thank the Lord she wasn't there anymore.

"Not a sick joke, Spike. Just believe me."

"Whoever you are, the First, the bloody law firm, whoever. I'm not fallin' for it this time."

Spike reached out and passed his hand through her. It sent shivers down her spine to feel his corporeal hand go straight through her.

"You're a ghost," he gasped. "I felt the cold. You're not Fred. Change back, change back."

She was Fred. What was his deal? Was he further gone than she thought?

"Spike," she started out softly. "You're right. I'm a ghost. But I'm really Fred. I won't hurt you."

"You already have. You died. I saw, he saw you die."

He must be referring to Wesley, she thought. Would Wes be like this if she appeared before him? Maybe his logical mind would be able to understand this much better than Spike would.

"I did. I'm not sure how to convince you it's me. I'm here for you."

"Did she put you up to this? I can't believe that Illyria would do this."

Fred almost growled when she heard that name. The name of the thing that spread her soul into the ether. The thing that took over her body, hardening it into a shell for her to reside.

"She's gone. Remember?"

Should she tell him that's what made this possible? That by Illyria dying, she had been able to rest in peace as she should? Fred didn't think that Spike would believe her.

"I remember," he stated with a bit of sorrow in his voice. "She saved us, you know. She wasn't what you thought she was. She never chose to come back, to hurt you."

So either Spike was using her for catharsis, or he started believing her story just a little bit.

"But she did hurt me. And now . . . ," Fred stated.

"You're dead. I know. I'm not jumping over the edge just yet. Maybe I am, seeing you and all. Maybe that's what this means. I've lost my bloody mind. I thought I had after my soul was put back. Now it's really happenin'," Spike laughed.

 

"Oh, crap. Crap, crap, crap," Cordelia yelled.

"What happened now? Lindsey screw up someone's life again?" Doyle asked.

"No. Fred. I cannot believe this."

Doyle shook his head like he didn't know what on earth she was talking about.

"She just decided to reveal herself to Spike, while he was awake."

"Oops," Doyle sympathized. "Must have had a good reason."

"We're in trouble. Why do people put me in charge?"

"Hey, higher being kinda makes you the boss around here. I just work here."

Cordelia sighed, thinking about what she could do next. "We'll just call Fred back. No harm done."

"Yep. No harm done other than Spike now believin' that Fred is a ghost, which she sort of is. No one will believe him since he's been actin' strange, which might drive him further around the bend."

"OK, OK. I get it. We should let Fred handle it. Oh God, what are we gonna do if he tells Wes?"

"Man's got problems of his own," Lindsey announced as he walked into the room.

"Now what?"

"I'm on the job. Apparently Book Guy is totally freaked. Black magicks that Vail stirred up are flying around like crazy. They want me to go in to try and fix the problem."

"You?" Doyle asked, astonished.

"My job. The hard cases."

"Didn't the person on your last case commit suicide?" Doyle wanted to know.

"Yes. Unfortunately it was supposed to happen. As I told you, not a pretty job."

Cordelia was scared. Scared for Fred, for Wes, for everything that had happened.

"What happened to Wes?" Cordelia asked Lindsey.

"I'm not sure. Seems that he had some kind of argument with his father, made the magicks surface. He's practically catatonic right now. Faith brought him back a little bit, but not enough. He almost killed her when she tried to help the first time."

"See if they can help him?" Cordelia wondered.

"Not happening, according to the Powers. If something doesn't change for him, the whole situation could blow up."

"Blow up as in he will, or blow up as in apocalypse blow up?" Doyle asked.

"Sort of a given, Doyle," Cordelia answered for Lindsey. "Give it a shot. But if you harm one hair on his body, I'm not gonna be happy."

"And when Cordy's not happy," Doyle started.

"I'm going to hell," Lindsey finished for the Irishman.


	6. Hell is Oneself

Chapter Six – Hell Is Oneself

What is hell?

Hell is oneself,

Hell is alone, the other figures in it

Merely projections.

\--T.S. Eliot, The Cocktail Party

 

Wesley couldn't tell from one minute to the next where he was. One minute he was back at the Hyperion, working on a case, the next minute Vail was stabbing him in the gut, twisting the knife just so to do more damage to his internal organs. Then Faith would appear, stabbing him with a shard of glass until he bled everywhere. The pain wouldn't go away. It continued unabated, so he just endured, survived the best he could.

His father would come and visit sometimes, while Faith had him tied to the chair, while Justine slit his throat and left him to bleed to death, while Vail held him airborne, while Angel held the pillow over his face in the hospital. The ranting, the tirades, the lectures about how much he was disappointed in his only son continued, even though Wesley could feel the life drain out of his body.

Every once in a while, he would hear a voice. Faith was calling to him, telling him it will be all right. Angel, telling him to come back to him, that he needed his friend. Willow, telling him he could beat whatever hold this had on him. Even Giles telling him he was better than that, that the magicks couldn't hold him forever.

Black, oozing, vile liquid flowing all around him, in his veins, in his heart, taking over his mind, his body, his soul. It made him so cold, probably colder than Angel or Spike had ever been, save the time that they died after being drained by a vampire.

The only touch he felt was on his hand. Soft, warm, strong hands holding his. Shaking it, squeezing it, holding him together just enough for him not to slip away completely, forever.

The knife plunged in, the shot ripped through his abdomen, the teeth sunk in to his throat, trying to rip him to shreds.

"Don't go, Wes. I need you," the voice softly commanded.

Where would he go? He could hide under the stairs, in the dark, with the spiders and other unmentionables. Maybe that would drive the monsters away. But that was a punishment from his father, not a refuge from his mind's madness.

Faces, names, places flashed through his brain. Cordelia as a young woman, so full of life. Cordy as the woman worn down by visions that were killing her slowly. Fred, in Pylea, grateful to be saved from a hell dimension. Fred, dying in his arms, asking him why she couldn't stay. Doyle, someone he really didn't know, burning up to save Cordy and Angel and many other demons. All the people who died at Graduation, all the people that they didn't save in Los Angeles.

"My fault. All my fault," he whispered as his failures stacked up.

Faith, his messed up slayer, sliced him, tortured him to prove a point. Angel fired him from the only job he could ever do just because of an obsession with a woman. Cordy shut him out after he kidnapped Connor. Gunn was not his best friend and confidant anymore after Wes didn't tell him about the prophecy. Lorne hit on the head because he read Wesley as he was going to take the baby. Connor, back from a hell dimension so full of rage and hate, no one could get through to him. Cordy, evil to the core because of some demon called Jasmine. Lilah, oh Lilah. He tried to save her, only to chop her head off to prevent her from coming back as a vampire. He still couldn't save her from her contract. Fred, so beautiful and innocent, died in his arms because he couldn't figure out a way to stop Illyria. Illyria gained her humanity only after he was dying on that cold, stone floor of Vail's. Angel sent them on a suicide mission to take down evil. Fight the good fight and die trying.

"Not your fault," the voice called to him, warming his heart just slightly.

"Fight the good fight? What fight? Losing not one, but two slayers. Working for a vampire, employed by an evil law firm, getting yourself gutted by a two-bit sorcerer. You didn't fight. You let everyone else fight around you, for you. You good for nothing, useless, little being."

His father wouldn't stop shouting at him. He shouted back, for his father to stop, to be quiet, but it didn't work. He kept going on and on. Wesley just wished he had a knife of his own to take away the pain, to stop his father's ranting.

 

"Faith, you should rest," Angel implored her to do.

Faith had been sitting in the same seat, next to the bed, holding Wesley's hand for what seemed like days. He would twist and turn occasionally, but then go back into a trance-like state again. Just when she thought he was coming out of it, he'd plunge back into whatever madness had taken him over. She wasn't seeing exactly what was going on now, but she knew it must be bad. He had somehow shut her out of his mind, but she had gotten enough of a preview to know he must be in hell.

"I'm OK. Not moving," she tiredly told the vampire.

"I can sit. Just let me help," Angel begged her.

The look on his face, man, she just didn't know what to think anymore. He looked beaten. Angel never looked beaten, until after most of his friends had died. This being had seen way too many people in his life just die and he couldn't stop it. She knew exactly how he felt.

"I'm afraid to leave him," she whispered.

"I know you are. So am I."

Angel hadn't left the room either. Only he hadn't touched his best friend at all. Faith wouldn't let him.

"He can't die, Angel. I'm not gonna let it happen, you hear me."

Faith was determined to keep Wes alive just by sheer will. The others were off researching a method to bring Wes back to the land of the living. What she wanted to know is if they succeeded, would he be sane?

"Me either."

"He's so cold," she admitted.

"Yeah, I can tell. His heart has slowed down quite a bit."

Faith gulped. Angel didn't want to leave because he wanted to make sure that Wesley didn't stop breathing. Did he hold out any hope that they could reverse this?

"Do you think they can figure out a way to help him?"

"I don't know. But if you don't get some rest, you won't be any good to him."

Angel was right. She hadn't eaten anything since the morning. She could tell by the darkness against the curtains that it was late into the night. She had been sitting in the same position for a very long time.

"OK, quick break. That's all. I really need to go badly too. Just don't touch him."

Angel shook his head like he understood. Faith slowly untangled her hand with Wes's, laying it on the bed beside him. Standing up, she stretched her muscles, then proceeded to do what she said she had to do, slamming the door to the bathroom in the rush.

 

Angel sat down next to the bed, wondering just what his friend was going through. If it was anything like Cordy had experienced when Vocah had marked her, making her experience visions nonstop, then the man must be in a living nightmare. But he had Wesley to help bring her out of those nightmares. Now Wes was lying in a bed, reliving all the bad things that had happened to him. In his mind, Angel had reason to believe that he had caused the majority of those things to happen.

Angel wanted to take it allaway from him, to absorb all the pain and misery, even if he wasn't the cause. That was one of the reasons he had let Wesley join them in the first place. He could see, no actually sense the man needed a place to belong, a place where he had people who cared about him. And he was useful. He ended up being a good friend. Wes was the only friend to really get who and what Angel was and still want to be friends with him. Cordelia sometimes forgot what Angel was, what was inside of him. Wesley never forgot that, but he never used it against Angel either.

As he sat beside his friend, Wesley began thrashing again, just like he had a dozen times in the last few hours.

"Wes, it's OK. We're here," Angel responded.

He knew it was lame, but what else could he say. Could Wesley actually hear him? He hoped that some part of his brain could, so that he would know that there were people that cared about him.

Wesley's arms went up to shield his face from something. It was when Angel heard exactly what Wesley was saying that he had to act.

"I'm so sorry, Angel. I shouldn't have taken Connor. Kill me. Just kill me now."

Angel grabbed his arms to pull them back down before Wesley hurt himself. Faith had told him not to touch Wes. Well, she was right. Angel could feel the pillow pressing downover Wesley's face, could feel the breath leave him. He could feel the stitches ripping at his throat, the blood oozing out of the vicious wound. Wes wanted to take a breath, but couldn't. He could hear his voice telling Wesley that this was Angel, not Angelus, smothering him. That he was doing this because of what Wesley had done. He didn't want to hear any explanations. He just wanted Wesley to die, to suffer like he had when he saw Holtz take his son into that portal.

Wesley screamed at him to let go in his mind, but Angel just held on. He could see the darkness that was making its way around and through Wesley's body. It sang to his inner demon, making Angelus hum a little tune. If this went on too much longer, Angelus might get his chance to come out and play once again.

Angel tamped down on Angelus, screwing his eyes shut, concentrating on pushing it down until he was just a small voice under all the blackness. As Angel was attempting to quell his own demon, Wesley's hands came up and around his throat and squeezed. Since Angel didn't breathe, he couldn't really do much harm. It was uncomfortable, but he couldn't kill Angel this way, unless he had so much strength he could rip Angel's head off. Then he would turn to dust.

Angel clenched Wesley's arms with his hands, trying to pry him off and not hurt him in the process.

"You son of a bitch, you're gonna pay for what you did," Wesley shouted as Angel battled to regain some control over the situation.

Angel froze, letting Wesley take his pound of flesh and then some. It was the exact thing that he had told Wesley while his friend was in the hospital after nearly dying from having his throat slashed.

"Angel, let go," Faith yelled as she came back into the room.

"I can't. He won't let me."

Faith pried Wesley's hands from around his neck, all the time saying Wes's name like a chant to get his attention. Angel stumbled back as Faith managed to finally get Wesley's hands off.

"What were you doing?" Faith asked as she stopped his thrashing about on the bed with one touch.

"He was gonna hurt himself. I was just trying to help," Angel cried, leaning up against the wall.

Sliding down slowly, he buried his head in his hands.

"Wes. Angel was just trying to help. Just rest. Don't stress yourself."

Faith rambled on and on to Wesley, finally settling down again in her chair.

"Why you?" Angel finally asked after a time.

"Why me? I'm not following."

"He seems attached to you."

"Not sure. Not like I didn't hurt him too. I saw some of the stuff you did to him. Just know if I'd been around, I would have kicked your ass somethin' fierce. Don't think that when this is over with, I still won't do it."

"I'm sorry, Faith. This is all so messed up. I'm so sorry, Wesley. I'm so sorry."

 

"Anything?" Willow asked Giles.

Giles hung up the phone, still writing down something on a pad of paper.

"Maybe. According to Elizabeth at the coven, if we combine the grounding spell with the vanquishing spell, it might bring him some peace of mind."

"But he has to say it, Giles. I don't think he's gonna be much into reading a complicated spell, plus doing all that chanty stuff. We have to bring him out of the trance first."

"I know. I think I know of a way to do that."

Willow spread her arms wide, like she wanted Giles to spill yesterday. "Well?"

"If I were to go into his mind, I might be able to pull him back to reality just long enough for him to be grounded. But first, we need to get him out of here."

Giles started to pick up several volumes of books that he had been consulting.

"Can't do it here?"

"No. Just in case," Giles told her, not looking her in the eye.

"Oh, just in case he like blows up a couple of miles around him, kinda like I tried to do in the not so recent past."

"No blowing up," Xander replied from the doorway. "I don't think I'm gonna be able to stop Watcher Boy with the crayon speech."

Xander had brought her back. Could Giles bring Wesley back?

"I'm not sure the man ever had any crayons, Xan, much less had any fun whatsoever. If I see that father of his, I'm gonna kick him where the sun don't shine."

"Oh, violence. Now that'll get you nowhere fast."

"I'm just angry Willow right now. And we still haven't figured out what triggered the major meltdown."

"I'm not sure why we're helping in the first place," Xander wanted to know.

"Because, Xander. That's so not fair. He'd help you."

"Are you sure about that? He did work for that evil law firm."

Giles slammed a couple of the books down on the table to get their attention. "Now is not the time. Get Buffy, Xander. We'll take him to my place in the country. Please procure a van, preferably with no windows."

"I'm thinkin' that we're packin' up the whole kit and kaboodle?" Xander asked.

"I don't think Angel would appreciate being left behind."

"Yeah, and Spike's been acting way too weird for words. I found him asleep underneath a desk, clutching a pillow. Remind me never to hang out with Angel and his merry band of friends again. It's like one of those Stephen King novels. Too freaky," Xander pointed out.  
"Ah, Miss Summers. If I could have a word with you," Clarisse called from down the corridor.

Buffy stood still, a little shocked. She didn't think that anyone was up at that hour. Having just left Mark to his research, she had been making her way back to the townhouse to see how Wesley was doing.

"I'm a little busy right now. If you take a number, I'll get back to you as soon as I can," Buffy quipped.

"Yes, I've read Mr. Giles's diaries. He said that your command of the English language is quite, shall we say, interesting."

"I think that Giles meant amusing, but what the heck. What do you want?"

"I was looking for Wesley. Have you seen him?"

"Nope. Not in a while. Probably out with Faith."

Clarisse sighed one of those that is so wrong sighs. Giles had done that to her plenty of times. Judging her, but not quite coming out and saying why he was judging her.

"I would really like to discuss with him his plans for the future."

"I'm thinkin' kicking some demon butt, followed by some light dusting is in his future."

"Watchers don't fight," Clarisse said emphatically.

"According to Angel, Wes has become the 'Rogue Demon Hunter' he professed to being. The man can kick some demon booty. So that's where the two of them are. Faith was itchin' to take out some of that slayer aggression."

Clarisse's eyebrows rose, like she didn't believe Buffy. Buffy really didn't care what the woman believed. Her thoughts were probably in the gutter regarding Wes and Faith anyway. Buffy wondered if she should go with the flow and push her a little further in that direction just to see where it led.

"So why aren't you out patrolling?"

"Um, maybe because I'm not the only one now. There's lots of little slayers running around. I do get a break occasionally."

"A slayer always has to be on her toes."

"Bullshit," Buffy retorted back. "Listen, Clarisse, is it? I'm alive today because of the people around me. My friends, my family, and their need to see me as something other than a machine with a stake in its hand."

"Attachments like that could get you killed. It could get your family and friends killed."

"Yes, I know all about that. Believe me, I do."

Buffy turned to leave, obviously wanting to end the conversation with the woman. It was really getting on her nerves that this so-called Council member would question her motivations.

"Faith, Wesley, they're nothing like you, are they? Not as dedicated to the cause."

Now here we go, Buffy thought. She's gonna try and turn this on them, get Buffy in her corner. What a sleazoid.

"Dedicated? Wesley died because he was so dedicated. Faith's come close way too many times to count. She was there, had my back when we took the First on. So you wanna talk about dedication, get in line. I don't see you dying for the cause any time soon."

Clarisse stepped forward, into Buffy's personal space. "Miss Summers, do you think you know me or pretend to know me?"

"Let me just put it to you straight. One, don't try that psychology shit on me, making me turn my back on my friends. Two, yeah, so Faith and Wes weren't my most favorite buddies back in Sunnydale. But I think they've proven to me and to all the others just how much they are valued."

"Faith and Wesley are loose cannons. Their methods cannot be tolerated."

Buffy winced as Clarisse started to spin her web. Time to squash the bug under the heel of her boot. She looked up into the older woman's eyes, a hint of challenge coming out.

"You just don't understand the group dynamic here, now do ya? Here I go again, trying to explain it to you. Wesley was my watcher. He was Faith's watcher. Giles is my watcher. He was Faith's watcher. Ergo, we are kinda connected in a way too screwy way. Which means, you insult my watcher, any version of my watcher, young or old, you insult me."

"Are you threatening me?" Clarisse asked with a shocked look on her face.

"Nah. But I will. Where do you get off?" Xander said as he walked forward.

Buffy wondered how long he had been standing in the shadows, just listening in on the conversation. He did that sometimes, watching, listening, waiting. He was so good at it, that she didn't notice him until she needed him.

"God, you know, I am sick and tired of your pompous asses screwing up everything just because you think you know it all. Get a grip, lady. You're messin' with the wrong people. Go back and hide under your polished desk."

Buffy could see that this was getting a rise out of Xander. Something that hadn't happened in a very long time. Not since Anya had died had he been this passionate about something. Even though he didn't necessarily feel comfortable working with Angel and his group again, he was defending them.

"Buffy?" a voice rang out in the distance.

"We have better things to do than to chat," Xander finished his tirade.

"Buffy?" Spike called to her again.

She could see his silhouette against the far wall, moonlight shining down. It used to be that his hair would practically glow from the paleness of it. Now with the dark, close shaved look, it made the vampire look quite a bit older, even though he was in his twenties when he was turned.

Buffy walked toward him, wondering why he had come to talk with her. It wasn't like he had sought her out. It must be important. Or maybe he just figured that he could catch her alone this late into the night. This time of night was usually reserved for the two of them so many years ago in Sunnydale. Or it seemed like so many years ago, when it wasn't all that long past.

"Hey, Spike. What's up?" she asked, trying to keep the tone light.

As Spike turned his head, she could see the faint, dark circles that were outlined on his moonlit face. He wasn't sleeping was her conclusion. Something must be bothering him if he looked like he did. Looking like he did when he lived in the basement of the high school.

"From beneath you, it devours," he announced, scaring her down to her toes.

 

"Fred?" Lindsey said quietly as he tiptoed into the cottage.

Fred stood in the middle of the room, hands over her mouth.

"You're back. How'd it go?"

"I, um, screwed it up royally, I guess." Fred wrapped her arms around her middle.

"Not possible."

Fred's eyes teared up and her mouth started to quiver. "He's, uh, lost his touch with reality. Something is wrong with him. I don't know how to reach him."

Lindsey thought it could get worse. Well, it just got worse. Not only was Wesley going down the tubes, Spike wasn't far behind. He really didn't want to tell her about her former boyfriend and his slide into insanity. She had enough to deal with in Spike. But he had to, before she found out another way.

"Fred. We'll figure this out. I just saw what's happening. Those Sunnydale people have good heads on their shoulders. They're gonna help."

"How? Like they care about Spike. Remember, not exactly best friends with the slayer and her buddies."

Fred was right, he realized. Spike had made enemies of those people at one point. They may still not trust him fully.

"Tell me about Spike. What's wrong with him?"

"He's lost his touch with reality. He kept sayin' somethin' about being devoured by somethin' that was gonna crawl up and eat him. From beneath you, it devours, I think."

"Shit," Lindsey let out with a sigh. "The First said that."

"That thing they were fightin' when Sunnydale went under. I thought Spike took it down. And that reminds me, weren't you the one who brought Spike back in the first place?"

Lindsey knew he was backed into a corner and had no other way out. Should he just tell her the truth or dance around it? She seemed pretty good at spotting a lie when needed. Oh, hell, he might as well.

"Wasn't me."

"What? You lying, cheating, no good, dirty, scoundrel, bastard."

Well, at least she had a way with words, he thought. If the worst she could say was bastard about him that was fine with him. He'd been called worse.

"I didn't bring him back, believe me. It wasn't like I didn't know it was gonna happen and that I wasn't gonna take advantage of it."

"Oh, so you're tellin' me that you knew about it, but didn't do it?"

"Yeah, exactly."

"Bullshit," she answered back, not believing him one bit.

She stepped closer to him, fists balled up at her sides. Since living and working with Angel all those years, he bet that she could put some power behind any punches she might throw his way. And he really didn't want to physically fight with her. He needed her help.

"Listen, I'm not gonna argue with you right now. We have another, much more seriously pressing problem. Your boyfriend is ready to go supernova and I don't have the first clue on how to fix it."

"Supernova? Boyfriend? Are you talkin' about Charles, because isn't he in Los Angeles?"

Fred looked at him funny, like he was the one losing it. Then it dawned on her to whom he was referring.

"Oh. Ohhh. Sorry. Slow on the uptake. And he's not my boyfriend, since hey, dead here."

Somehow that made Lindsey feel a little better. Maybe she was healing from that emotional roller coaster.

"Whatever dark magicks that Vail used to revive Wesley, well, they're coming back to literally bite him in the ass. He's going under and doesn't have a way to find a lifejacket."

"Damn it, damn it, damn it, damn it," Fred stomped around the room, shouting at the top of her lungs. "This is all her fault. She so messed him up."

"I don't think this has anything to do with Faith."

"No, you dumbass. Illyria. She's the cause of this."

Lindsey didn't really see the connection. Illyria was gone now. Fred was restored. He would have thought that Fred would have been jealous of Faith, not some ex-demon god that went bye-bye when she died.

"Oh, fuck," Lindsey said slowly.

Why didn't he see it? They all had been so busy concentrating on the living, why hadn't anyone seen this outcome. Fred tapped her foot on the ground, waiting for an answer.

"Where'd Illyria go after she died?" Lindsey asked the former physicist.


	7. Falling Apart at the Seams

Chapter Seven – Falling Apart at the Seams

Fred's mouth stood open, but nothing came out. She had no clue, just as he didn't.

"I'm not sure," Fred said hesitantly. "I just suddenly appeared here."

Lindsey racked his brain, trying to figure out where an Old One would go after death. Sure, Illyria had been imprisoned after death in the Deeper Well for centuries, but someone or something had put her there. It hadn't happened this time.

"I need to talk to someone," he announced, hoping this was the right plan.

"Wait. What are you gonna to do?"

"I need to talk to a lawyer."

 

Buffy stood directly in front of Spike, shaking on the inside and out. His eyes bored into her, like he could see right into her soul. Was he controlled by the First again? No, he didn't have that vacant, I'm possessed look like he did in Sunnydale. He had that crazed, my soul has been put back look she remembered all too well. She didn't know which Spike she cared to see at the moment. Both could be volatile and dangerous.

"Spike?" she whispered, not wanting to set him off. "It's me, Buffy. What are you saying?"

"I, we, I don't know," he replied, haunted sound to his voice.

His head jerked around at a sound from down the corridor. A clang and a scrape drew her attention also. Xander and Clarisse were still trading insults, so they didn't hear the ominous noise.

"They're coming," Spike announced. "We need to get out of here. Now."

Spike grabbed her arm, intent on her following. Did he know what was coming down the corridor? It was obvious at that time that something was coming. It sounded like heavy footsteps.

Mark appeared from the back to startle her. "Buffy. Why on earth are you still here?" he said as he came up to the two.

"I, um, Spike heard something. What's down that corridor?" Buffy pointed in the direction of the noise.

"Oh. The front door, offices and such. Why?"

The hairs on the back of Buffy's neck tingled. Spike had to be right. Something was coming. Her spidey senses were never wrong.

"Xander, let's go. Now," she urged him on.

"And another thing," he continued with Clarisse.

Spike held onto her arm, getting a sharp look from Mark. She wrenched out of his grasp and reached for Xander. He stopped also, tipping his head toward the sound.

"Um, Buff. Wanna tell me what's coming?"

"You hear too?"

"They're coming. Let's go," Spike growled.

"This place is protected. Nothing can enter without express permission," Mark pointed out.

"Want to tell them," Xander finished, backing away.

At least ten Fyarl demons came around the corner, armed to the hilt. All the people that lived in and around the complex. Buffy couldn't warn all of them in time. All the slayers, all the baby watchers, theydidn't standa chance.

"Crap," she said to herself.

"Damn lawyers," Spike added.

 

Faith literally stroked Wesley's arm, wanting to calm him again. Ever since Angel had touched him, his brain must have been going into overdrive. She just wished for once the dumbass had listened to her. But he wanted to help, she knew. She just didn't need his kind of help right then.

Angel still sat against the wall, head bowed, eyes closed, almost like he was asleep. Faith figured that he wasn't. Since he didn't need to breathe as such, she couldn't tell what he was doing. He must be brooding was her first thought. That's what he did best.

Wes's hand had warmed up some after she had taken it between her two. As a matter of fact, he seemed to be getting warmer by the minute. Wasn't that what happened when he expended all that energy and shocked the hell out of her? But she didn't want to pull her hand back until absolutely necessary.

"Angel, call Giles," she asked of him.

"What? Is there a change?" he said bouncing up from his crouched position.

"He's warming up. I just don't want my body to light up the room again while he gives me enough jolts to fucking kill me this time."

"Then you need to let him go."

"Only if I have to."

And that was the end of that. She wasn't letting go until he lost it completely. She just hoped she knew when that time was coming.

"Angel, they're here," Wesley said in a calm and collected voice.

His eyes popped open, just like he'd been taking a leisurely nap. Angel had the phone in his hand, getting ready to speak into the receiver.

"Giles, he's awake," Angel spoke up, not even saying hello.

But something definitely was not right. She could still feel under the surface that he was still in that dream state. Why was he responding now? Pulling his hand out of her grasp, he swung his legs over the bed and pushed off. His wobbly legs took him to the door, where Angel blocked his way out.

"Let's wait for Giles."

Instead of listening to Angel, which lately Wes really hadn't at all, he put his hand on Angel's chest and gave him a jolt. Angel cried out in pain and slumped to the floor.

"Wes, stop," she yelled, trying to think of a way to stop him without touching him.

"Something wicked this way comes," he wryly told her as he pulled the door open, pushing Angel out of the way while doing it.

Great, now he was speaking in fucking riddles, she thought. Before she could take a step forward he was out the door and jogging down the corridor.

"Shit," she cursed.

Angel was panting on the floor, recovering from the shock. "God, I wish people would stop doing that to me. A heart can only take so much."

Crap, his heart was as dead as a doorknob. "Get your lazy vampire ass up," she said as she started to follow Wes.

 

"Hello? Hello, Angel?" Giles spoke into his cell. "I've lost them. He said that Wesley was awake, then the line went dead."

"Maybe we should just check things out," Willow stated.

She couldn't feel the overwhelming sensation that she had felt the first time Wesley had used dark magicks. But it was still there, still winding around her like a spool of thread, threatening to bind her until she gave in to using them herself, just to break free of the confinement. She was grounded though, the chants helping her deal with the fact that she still wasn't in total control. Yes, she had used the most pure, earthly magicks possible in Sunnydale to make all the potentials into slayers, thereby helping to defeat the ubervamps. In the back of her mind, there still was that little kernel of dark always fighting to get out. Must be what Angel had to deal with every day. She had to ask him sometime.

"My thoughts exactly."

Giles piled his books and ingredients into a duffel bag and slung it over his shoulder. She was so glad that he and Xander were here, if just to remind her what she went through in Sunnydale. They and Buffy were the best grounding force she had. Now she was glad that Kennedy wasn't around, wanting her attention. Now she could just focus on her closest friends, without having someone getting jealous. Tara never got jealous, because she had been part of their little circle, had made it complete.

Handing her a backpack, they left Giles's office to head to the townhouse across the street. She almost careened into Giles as he stopped short.

"Hey, mister. Tell me when you're gonna call a halt," she announced.

"Shh," he said, wanting her to be quiet. "The barriers are down," he told her in a whisper.

She knew exactly what barriers he was talking about, to protect the place from evil forces just like the harbingers. She had helped Giles put them into place herself. Why didn't she feel them coming down? Too busy concentrating on not going evil again was her guess.

"Giles? Run," she said as she sensed something behind them, way too close for her comfort.

The two didn't even look back, but she heard something following them down the corridor. Giles took her arm and forcefully flung her into another corridor and then into an archway, hiding them momentarily from their pursuers. She was having trouble calming her breathing, making Giles put his hand over her mouth to muffle it more. She understood why as two very icky, very large demons strode past them almost making no sound. Their shiny swords stood out in the darkness.

She was so surprised that the things didn't see her and Giles when she almost slapped her hand to her head. She had been so frightened that she hadn't realized that Giles had used a concealing spell to make them invisible for the time that the demons passed. Since that spell didn't last very long, they would have to make tracks so they wouldn't be seen.

Taking her hand, they headed off in the opposite direction as the two demons, hoping that they wouldn't run into any others before they arrived at the townhouse.

Only their luck didn't hold out. Before they could reach the entrance to the tunnel that led to the townhouse, two other demons, both armed with daggers, appeared out of nowhere. Giles flung down his bag, pulling his own dagger out of his pocket. Dang it, she thought. Why didn't I think of that too?

This was the time she needed to get her mojo going so they didn't end up like shish kabobs. Only the demons didn't play fair, shooting the knife directly toward her with surprising speed. Later on, she'd grump to Giles that he didn't need to protect her. Right at that moment, he hurled her to the ground, taking the knife in the thigh. She felt the impact of the hard, stone floor down to her bones, mostly because Giles weighed a ton and had hit her hard to make sure she wasn't the recipient of that deadly knife. And it only pissed her off. Before the demons could reach the two of them, her hand came up, driving the two demons back and into the wall with a resounding thud. Both sunk to the floor.

"I wasn't fast enough," Willow cried as she tried to pull herself out from under Giles.

He groaned in pain as Willow finally was able to get her leg out from underneath him. The knife stuck out of his leg to the hilt.

"Giles?" she said as she looked over his wound.

"You'll have to pull it out," he panted back.

The last time she saw this amount of blood coming from Giles she had caused it herself. Hitting an artery in his leg wouldn't be really good right then. She had no way to get him to a hospital since the Council seemed to be overrun with demons.

"Ready?" she asked him.

"Do it," he implored, bracing for the added pain the knife would cause as it slid out.

Instead of doing it gently, Willow pulled it out smoothly and quickly, knowing that it would be like a band aide. The quicker you got it off, the faster and better you'd feel. But it wasn't a band aide. A big, long knife was clutched between her hands. Giles hadn't screamed, only moaned a little. She probably would have taken the house down, she thought.

Willow pulled off her sweater and tore a part of it to make a bandage to help stem the flow of blood. She tied it tight around his thigh.

"Can you walk?" she whispered, not wanting any other demons to hear.

"I'll have to, I suppose."

Willow placed her hands over the wound, trying to at least heal him enough to help him walk. It wasn't working. Nothing was working. The healing powers that she usually could call upon weren't responding. Did flinging the demons up against the wall take too much out of her? No, she could still feel that energy surround her, going through her. She just couldn't tap into it. So there was only one other way to get Giles moving enough for them to get out of there.

"Curatio," she mumbled, calling upon those dark forces that she was keeping dormant.

"No, Willow," Giles told her, probably feeling the same things that she was too.

He grabbed her hand before she could touch his wound, pulling it back until they were both sitting. Only he wasn't exactly trying to stop her. He was absorbing the energy and arcing it outward, away from him and her. The electrical pulses that surrounded them cracked and sputtered until she wrenched her hand away from his.

"Something's blocking me from helping," she cried.

"This is not the way, Willow. You know exactly where that will lead. Now help me up and lets get the bloody hell out of here."

Willow didn't want to touch Giles again, but she knew she had to, to help him walk. He groaned as she pulled him up off the ground.

"We need those books, Willow. We must have them."

Willow threw the bag over her free arm and helped Giles down the hall slowly. Each touch, each skin-to-skin contact made her spine shiver and her heart want the darkness to return. Why Giles, why now, she thought? Why was he the one to bring these forces forward again? She didn't blame him, she blamed herself. She wondered what he felt, if he felt it also. She also wondered if he did, how did he control it? Control wasn't easy. Controlling her dark demons was next to impossible.

 

Faith followed Wesley through the dark corridors. Before the corridors had been lit up like a Christmas tree. No dark corners, no places to hide. Only now, her vision wasn't working as well as she wanted in the dim light. It was hard to follow Wes, he was moving so fast. God, she was out of practice. She'd intensify her training once they got out of this mess. Maybe that would pull good ole' Wes back – the opportunity to whip her ass into shape once again. If she could reach him to be able to tell him that is.

Scrambling up to the door that led to the Watchers' Council building, Wesley suddenly stopped, peering outside. He waved them to stay where they were.

"Wes, back to the townhouse, now," she told him, growling out the last word for emphasis.

"They're here."

"He keeps saying that," Angel said from behind her.

He had obviously caught up with her, recovering from the blast he had received from the now electric Wes.

"Quit bein' cryptic, damn it," she wanted Wes to know.

"Damn lawyers," Wes answered, voice taking on some weird quality that spooked her.

"They found us. Should have known that they would, eventually."

Angel was standing beside her now, tense and ready to fight. Well, she wasn't ready to fight, unless she had to. No, she had to get Wes to safety. Then she'd kick some demon ass. Only Wes opened the door, exposing them to whoever or whatever was making all the noise in the corridor.

"Bad move," Angel shouted as he dove after Wesley.

They were immediately swallowed up by demons, coming from both sides. Vampires, demons, other creatures she didn't even know what in hell they were, converged on the spot where the two dumbasses had gone.

"Why is it I always have to save everyone's ass around here?" she mumbled to herself.

Lashing out with her fist, she took down the first vampire who got in her face. It hurt just slightly, making her cheer to herself. She was back in the game again, punching, kicking, crushing. The violence felt good. She hadn't slayed in so long, she had missed this part. Only there were way too many targets to choose from. It was like three to a hundred or something, she guessed. It wasn't like she had time to count.

The demons were going down fast enough, but not fast enough for her. Suddenly, out of nowhere, half the group crumbled, just crumbled to dust.

"Double freakin' damn," she said to herself.

Another blast from somewhere took down at least twenty more. Now the odds were much better. She could see what her fist was hitting. And she wasn't getting knocked around as much too. Life was grand, until she spotted her savior, shooting sparks from his arm. Then he mumbled some of that mumbo jumbo that Willow sometimes used, felling another few who tried to do a sneak attack on Angel.

Wesley looked a little scary to her. She had heard the stories about Willow going over to the dark side, the veiny, scary Willow that killed a human for shooting her girlfriend. She wondered what Willow really looked like then. She just hoped it wasn't anything Wesley looked like now.

They took out the last few stragglers, Angel finishing off the last vampire by ripping its head off, watching the dust fall to the ground softly. He had gone into game face while he pummeled the demons. Faith was glad he was in it. Only when he turned toward Wes to nod a thank you did she really start to worry. Wes turned his arm, ready to shoot out one of those deadly jolts that she knew must be a gazillion times stronger than what she experienced.

Angel stood frozen, not moving. Good vampire, she thought. Not wanting to provoke the scary man with the pointing finger.

"Wes, don't do it. It's Angel," she yelled as she moved forward.

Walking slowly in front of Angel, she could actually see the blues of his eyes. Now that was different. But his hand was still extended, ready to do damage. Putting up her hand, she moved toward him deliberately. There was no recognition in his eyes. Maybe her theory of him being under was still correct. Before she could reach him, he collapsed in a heap on the floor.

Both she and Angel ran to him, Angel reaching him before his thick head touched the hard surface below him.

"Faith, take him," Angel said to her as he started to pull away.

Angel backed away, positioning himself against the far wall, hands shaking. Faith gingerly lifted Wesley's head and set it in her lap. He was fighting in his mind. Every punch he delivered and received, every cut, every scrape, every shot, every wound, she could see him going down each and every time. Those wicked guns he was deadly accurate with, firing off at a moment's notice. Shooting at the Beast point blank and having no effect, protecting Fred from gunrunners and cyborgs, shooting some unarmed guy standing next to Illyria and feeling no remorse, blasting some lawyer in the leg just for talking to him, only to come up short when Vail gutted him like a fish. Should have taken those lovely guns with you to the mage, she thought.

"I know," he answered in her brain. "Very big mistake on my part."

The visions kept playing over and over again. She held the bile down in her throat, but it was sheer torture.

"Enough gun battles, Wes. Give me a serene kinda thing going or I'm gonna upchuck right here," she said out loud.

"Faith, what the hell is going on here?" Sam shouted as he came near.

Faith tensed until she realized it wasn't another enemy. Angel staggered up out of his crouch and came over to stand beside them on the ground. As Sam reached his hand out to help Faith, both she and Angel screamed at the same time, "Don't touch him."

Sam jerked his hand back in addition to backing up a few steps.

"Giles. Have you seen Giles?" Angel hurriedly asked.

"No. The rest of the place is in chaos, although a few moments ago, it got eerily quiet."

"Time to make tracks people," Xander said coming from another corridor. "Watcher Boy, we need a van and pronto. Got any ideas?" he asked Sam.

"Xander, where's everyone else?" Faith asked of him.

"Buff, Mark and the bitch Clarisse are trying to find Giles and Willow."

Which was Giles and Willow's cue to show up. Willow was barely holding on to an injured Giles. Both Angel and Sam rushed to help her out.

"Barriers are back up," Giles groaned as the two men set him down on the cold floor.

"Who?" Sam asked.

"I think that Electro Guy may have had something to do with that," Faith pointed down to Wes, which was as good a guess as any.

"They're stronger than before," Giles started

"And more evil, I might add," Willow finished.

"We don't know where Wesley is deriving his power at the moment. Let's just take it as a blessing and leave it at that." Giles was surly and bleeding all over the floor. Wesley moved a finger and Giles gasped, grabbing his leg as if he was in pain.

"You can bloody well stop that," Giles grumbled, clutching his leg, looking pointedly at Wesley.

"OK, now why can't I do that?" Willow complained, eyes widening as she finished that statement. "Give me my power back."

Willow lunged for Wesley, only to be caught around the waist by Angel.

"We're not doin' this now, Willow," Faith announced. "Don't be such a bastard Wes. Not fair to her."

Willow flinched as her power was restored. Faith really thought she saw her eyes flare black for just a brief second before Angel released her.

"I don't know what's going on here, but this whole place has been overrun with demons. If we don't do something, there'll be lots of bloodshed," Sam informed the rest of them.

"I don't think that will be a problem any more," Giles announced as he tried to move his leg. "And Wesley, would you please restore my power as well," he told the semi-conscious man.

Giles sighed in relief as Wesley did just that. How he did it baffled Faith. He was out of it, literally. Yeah, he twitched and sometimes moaned a little, but he was not coming around. At least he wasn't being Gun Boy in his dreams now.

"He borrowed your power?" Angel asked.

"Damn tootin'. And the only reason I knew that was I couldn't heal Giles."

"You could," Giles reminded her.

"Yeah, but not going over to the dark side of the force Obi-wan. Remember?"

The by-play between the two was giving Faith a headache in addition to the queasy stomach she already had.

"Hey, vehicle, procure. I don't believe I just said procure. Giles, you need to change your vocabulary." Xander grabbed a hold of Sam and they trotted off in the opposite direction.

"So, the barriers' up?" Faith asked slowly, since all this was still freaking her out.

"Mystical barriers, fortunately. Willow installed them right before we moved in. It must have taken quite a bit of power to lower them for the invasion."

More footsteps could be heard running down the opposite corridor. Angel tensed for a fight and Faith was ready to let go of her watcher if need be to defend them. But it was only Buffy, Spike, Mark and Clarisse barreling around the corner.

"Incoming," Buffy yelled as she spun around to fight.

Only she didn't get the chance. The Fyarl demons all clutched their sides, writhing in pain until they collapsed in a big heap on the floor.

"OK, Will, what'd you do?" Buffy asked first.

"Nothin'. Mr. Stealin' My Power is takin' 'em down," Willow told her friend cryptically.

"Uh, what?" she asked again.

"It appears that Wesley has the ability to borrow each of our powers at any given time."

"And kick some demon ass, Giles," Faith added.

"He's unconscious," Mark pointed out.

Spike snorted, like there was something funny to the situation. "Leave it to Percy to take a nap while the rest of us are getting our arses pounded."

"Well, Spike. Since all you did was run and hide underneath Buffy's skirts, I'd say the two of you are even," Angel chided.

"Skirt? What skirt? What, are you daft or something?" Spike asked Angel.

"Doing what you do best, Spike. Which means not getting your hands dirty unless it's necessary," Angel went on.

"Oh, will you two bloody well shut it," both Giles and Wesley mumbled.

"Freaky," Buffy said as she looked from Wesley to Giles.

Faith could feel that Wes had some control over his body. He just couldn't wake up and join in the conversation. How could he speak, or figure out that there were demons invading?

Xander whistled off in the distance. "We have wheels," he shouted.

"Giles? Protection for this place?" Buffy asked, worried that the demons would come back.

"It's protected. I believe if we do leave, that there will not be another attack. It seems they are after the Los Angeles contingent. Not us. Clarisse, you must stay and gather the others."

"I've stayed quiet until now, Rupert. Not on your life. You've abused too much power tonight. I do believe you need someone impartial to watch over what you are trying to do."

Faith heard Wes whisper an insult that sounded like it started with a c. She just didn't want to repeat the word because she really wanted Clarisse to hear it from his mouth when he woke up. Spike snickered beside her, using that vampire hearing. Even Angel had a slight quirking of the lips.

"Bloody hell, I'm not arguing with you. Do whatever you like, Clarisse. But I need to speak to the Chancellor before we leave. And will someone get me some bloody painkillers. You're healing skills are terrible," Giles directed toward Wesley.

"And so's your bedside manner, Rupert," Spike went on, chuckling.

 

Fred wanted to bang her head against the wall yet again. Spike was coming out of the coma he had put himself in. She knew that she hadn't helped that situation one bit. How'd he do it, she thought?

"Spike. What am I gonna do with you?"

"You know, he had a little help," Cordelia announced from the door.

"Not me. I just went in there and almost drove him to suicide," Fred said, southern accent picking up just a little.

It was at times like these that her voice reverted to her roots, when she was nervous or just too tired to care.

"No, I don't think he'd ever do that. At least, he seems to have a way of bringing himself out of those deep depressions he gets himself in. Unlike the other so-called vampire with a soul, who just punches his way out of it."

Fred sighed, not really wanting to talk about Angel also. "So? What gives? I'm not sure I'm the one to handle him."

"Fred, you're the first person to ever take him at face value. You didn't judge him, but made him feel like a real live boy, even though he was playing ghostie at the time."

"Well, he was real enough. His heart is good."

"That's what you see and that's what makes you so good at this. Come on, back in Pylea, you noticed that first about Angel. You defended Wes after he tried to kill you, for heaven's sake. You see things that other people can never see."

"What? That I'm a gullible girl from the sticks who let men walk all over her?"

Cordelia put a hand on her shoulder. "No. A woman who has them eating out of the palm of her hand. Don't you see it? I may have been the heart of that little group down there, but you were its soul."

Fred shyly dipped her head, not wanting to look at Cordy. She remembered how they each rallied around her when Illyria was taking her over slowly. Her handsome men, her friends, her family. Now they were all screwed up and she didn't have a clue how to fix it.

"So if they've lost the heart and soul of the group, how do they get it back?" Fred asked the hard question of Cordelia.

"We invent another heart and soul. Give them something else, or someone else to fight for. Hey, it can't be that hard?"

Fred knew it would be next to impossible. Give Spike a reason to live, to go on fighting? She also looked at Angel and the comatose Wesley on the ground. The three looked beaten, like they were slowly fading away. Only Faith was perched in the middle of the three guys. Like they radiated around the dark-haired slayer. Angel's hand came out to touch Faith's hair just slightly. Spike hovered over Wes like he was protecting the crown jewels or something. The four of them were all that was left of the group.

And then Fred realized what no one else was seeing. The forming of a plan popped into her linear brain. But everything had to go as planned if she were to help all four. Because now she felt like she had to take care of all of them, not just Spike. It might break her heart to do what she wanted to do. But all four of them needed each other. They just didn't know it yet.


	8. Searching, Wanting

Chapter Eight – Searching, Wanting

Wesley could see them, could feel Faith's touch, could respond with grunts when necessary, but he couldn't communicate verbally with any of them. He was trapped in his own mind. He hated being trapped. Why he kept reliving the scenes of his life was a mystery to him. It scared him to think that he could stay this way forever.

He wanted to tell Giles and Willow that he was very sorry for borrowing their power. He just thought about using more power and there it was. He couldn't even tell Giles that Willow was teetering on the edge of using dark magicks again. But her magicks held the barrier in place at the Council for now. The demons that had broken into the place would be hard-pressed to break them any time soon. But the whole system would have to be overhauled once he was well enough to speak with Giles.

The van that they had taken was a big, uncomfortable hunk of moving metal. Faith held his head in her lap, but the rest of his body lay on the cold metal of the van. Both Angel and Spike crouched by the sides to avoid any errant sliver of sunlight that had emerged while they were traveling. Sam, the watcher who Faith had hit on was driving. And Clarisse was riding shotgun. Wesley wanted to yell at Giles for letting the two of them come along. Yes, it might be a good plan to have the two of them in front so the rest of them wouldn't be seen. He just didn't want either one of them around. It complicated matters immensely.

So he decided to think about something pleasant. In his mind, he sat in a field, much like the one he had encountered in the other dimension. It would help clear his brain to formulate a plan of action.

"You know they'll find you," Spike spoke up from behind him.

"I was wondering when you'd appear."

"Hey, not my fault."

No, none of this was Spike's fault. He seemed to just be along for the ride.

"You have to help them, protect them," Wesley pushed.

"Yeah, and you have to come out of that self-induced coma that you're in. The bloody poof is driving me into an early grave."

"Spike, you're already dead," Wesley pointed out.

"Yeah, well, driving me to stake myself just to get away from his annoying stare."

This was the part that Wesley didn't understand. Spike was the only thing even remotely real in his dream state. He was the only being that Wesley could speak with at the moment. Even Faith didn't have that kind of access, although she was helpful in pulling him back from going too far inside of himself. This teetering on the edge of nothingness was getting old.

"Why are you here?" he asked the vampire.

"Don't rightly know. One minute I'm losing my bloody mind, the next minute I hear your voice in my head."

"If it will keep you sane," Wesley started.

"Too late for that, mate. I'm already headed down that demented path."

"We all need you. Including Angel. Just hold it together for now. Wolfram and Hart won't stop until we're all dead. Angel needs you to continue the fight."

"Angel needs to not have taken the jerks on in the first place. But nothin' we can do about that now. And he also needs you. Don't you forget that."

No, there was nothing that any of them could accomplish until he woke up and Spike regained full use of his faculties. Only Faith and Angel were at full strength. He didn't know whether he could trust Buffy and the others not to bail out on them if the going got to be too much.

"Protect her," Wesley finished, knowing that Spike would pick up immediately of whom he was speaking.

"She's not exactly cooperative when someone wants to take care of her."

"She's all that I have."

"No, Wes. That's where you're wrong. Definitely wrong."

 

Faith wasn't feeling any bad vibes coming from Wes at the moment. What she didn't understand was why he woke up in the first place, helping them defeat that swarm of demons. She figured that he would be in la-la land for a little while, but not this long. Now he was totally blocking her, not letting her see what he was dreaming. How did he have all these abilities and not be awake? Maybe she should just punch him to see if he would react.

"Don't," Spike whispered to her.

He had worked his way over to her, sitting close by her side now. He kept looking at her, probably trying to figure her out. They were somewhat alike, she thought. They both enjoyed the fight and liked to win.

"Don't what?"

"Hit him. Wake him up. Whatever is going on in that pretty little head of yours. He'll come 'round. Don't you worry."

"Yeah, only I want him to wake up right now. Not later. This is so stupid."

The frustration in her voice was apparent even to her. She wanted Wes around, not in some mystical coma. She wanted Angel and Wes to make up. She wanted the world to not be so evil. Faith never got what she wanted. That was a given.

"Welcome to my world, Faith. Just hang on to him."

Faith's mind whirled as she thought about what Spike was saying. Did he know more than he was telling her? If he did, he'd be looking at the hard dirt in the sunlight before he turned to ash.

Looking over at Angel on the other side of the van, she sighed. Angel looked as if a car had run over him. He was dirty, demon blood covering his front. He had fought well back at the Council headquarters. If he looked this bad, then she must look just as disgusting too.

"You look like shit, Angel," she announced.

Buffy snickered a little at her comment, but no one spoke up. The rest of the group had been deathly quiet as they drove to their destination. She wondered what they thought about this little show that Wes and Angel had put on for them. She bet they hadn't had such a crazy blast in a long time. Buffy and the others weren't used to fighting this way, like they did in the past. They were no longer on the front lines. Now she and the others brought the fight right to their front door.

"Could use a shower," Angel responded by picking something out of his hair.

A part of it stood on end after he freed whatever was sticking to it. Xander smiled but didn't challenge Angel at all. She didn't think that she would either by the look on Angel's face. He really didn't like his hair messed up.

Faith combed her hands through Wes's hair, trying to make him more comfortable. Since she had never had the opportunity to just look at him, she took that chance now. She would really have to kid him about the few gray hairs she had found as she absently stroked his head. He was older than she was, that she knew. Probably going prematurely gray around Angel. He hadn't cut his hair in a while, so it curled around her fingers as she touched it. Even though they all smelled a little ripe from fighting, she could still distinguish his different, unique scent from all the others. But she missed seeing his eyes the most. The looks that he would give her made her feel special. She was certain that Giles must give those looks to Buffy too. But that sparkle that he showed as he was talking to her was reserved only for her. The blue was so captivating that sometimes it was hard to look away.

Oh, damn it, why was she thinking about him like this? He was her watcher, that was it. But as she sat there with his head in her lap, she sometimes wished he meant a little more. She could let him in, if she wanted that, if he wanted that. Did she want to? He certainly had changed over the last couple of years. She hoped that her about face was apparent to him also. She had felt something strange the last time they had worked together. But he had been hurting then from his evil girlfriend's killing and taking Angelus down. That's why she didn't push anything between the two of them. Not that they didn't have the opportunity to kiss and make up any of the time they spent together. They must have danced around each other the whole time she was in Los Angeles. Damn it, he looked way too yummy for her to ignore him for any length of time.

Right now she'd strip and dance naked around his body if that was what got him moving again. She'd come to depend on him in more ways than one. She had even looked forward to training with him again. So why didn't he get his ass up and do what he was trained to do, what she wanted him to do?

Her fingers traced the scar on his neck. Angel had explained that Wes had gotten it from a woman who had taken his child right out of Wes's arms. If she could figure out who the woman was, she would hunt her down and give her a going over, maybe give her a matching scar as a souvenir for what she had done. She knew that the memories that Angel had taken from them weren't coming back. Wes was the only one who knew exactly what had happened. She was glad that Angel had explained it all to her, why the two of them were at such odds. And she also knew that Wes still felt almost overwhelming guilt at having misjudged the whole situation. Get them talking again was her only solution. Angel cared for the man still. He wouldn't have put so much effort at protecting him if he didn't. Wes was part of Angel's family, whether he liked it or not.

"Angel?" Faith finally spoke up while she lightly traced the scar on Wes's neck.

Angel looked into her eyes, not at what she was doing. "Yeah?" he answered back.

The two of them didn't need to say anything else. They would both die protecting the man in her lap. They had both hurt and betrayed him, just like he had done the same thing to them. But the connection was still there. It had survived all the turmoil, all the adversity to still remain strong. Angel had not only taken Wes's memories away, he had taken some of his heartache away too, if just for a while. He had not only done it for Connor, he had done it for his best friend.

"Your hair is sticking up," she quipped back, earning a small quirk of his lips.

"Fighting is hell on the hair," he told her.

Buffy laughed, not getting the joke on the same level as she and Angel did. "You should see what it does to my clothes budget."

Faith and Angel smiled back to each other, knowing that Buffy would never understand what they were going through. Redemption wasn't easy, wasn't fast, wasn't fun, and it surely wasn't only confined to just the two of them. Spike sighed a little beside her too. He probably knew exactly what the two of them exchanged. And if Wes woke up from his weird coma, then he could probably join in also.

 

"So you know what to do?" Willow asked Giles as the two sat in the back of the van.

"Similar to what you did with Buffy the time she couldn't escape her mind. When Glory took Dawn," Giles explained.

But that was her doing the spell, before evilness. They needed Buffy to fight Glory. And Buffy is a slayer, she thought. Wes was just a man. Well, a man with a wicked sense of magicks, she realized. He could probably block Giles out. Giles winced in pain as he tried to get more comfortable on the hard floor of the van. She'd have to tell Xander when they arrived at Giles's place to next time get something a little more conducive to actually sitting, not something that hauled cattle. At least then her butt wouldn't be asleep.

"You're not strong enough," she told him emphatically.

"I will be once we arrive."

Willow wanted to argue with him, but she knew it wouldn't do any good. Arguing with Giles was like arguing with the smartest man in the world. Well, she concluded he was definitely wrong this time. He couldn't handle it. The last time he had been injured and she had to bring Buffy back from her self-induced coma. She'd find a way to convince him that she was the perfect person for the job.

"I'm not sure how on earth we will all fit in my house."

"We will. Hey, Angel and Spike can stay in the basement."

"It's dank and dark, and oh, you're right. They could."

"That would leave four girls, three guys and one comatose stupidhead. We should fit."

Willow was still upset that Wesley had taken most of her power away from her. He had taken the good, earthly power, leaving behind the evilness that she felt growing in her every day. Once this was all over, she'd have to make a trip to Devon to see the coven. Centering her power would be helpful and they might have some insight into how she could get rid of the evil part once and for all.

"I do believe that you are still upset with Wesley. Until we know exactly why he did what he did, I suggest you hold your judgment."

Giles was right, dagnabbit. As always.

"Yeah, yeah. It's just you were hurt and I couldn't help you. And I'm still so not gonna forget that tackle you put on me. You wouldn't be this way if it weren't for me. So I'm going to say thank you and when you're well I'm going to punch your lights out for putting yourself in danger again, I might add."

Giles rolled his eyes her way from her ranting. "I would rather not have a knife sticking out of your head. Mind you, I did hit you fairly hard, but it was necessary."

Willow just snorted in reply, knowing that Giles would always have some kind of explanation. "Just don't do it again."

"You know that I can't promise that."

She wouldn't want him to promise that. He had saved them plenty of times and vice versa. As she looked at the contingent from LA, she wondered if they had gone through similar experiences. She was sure they had just by the looks on their faces. But her group hadn't lost as many members. Angel had lost everyone but Wesley and the guy named Gunn. Anya and Tara had been gone for so long, she sometimes just had to pull their pictures out to see them again. But they were still in her heart, and probably in a better place than she would ever be. She still ached for Tara sometimes, but the more time that flew by, the less it hurt. Angel had lost everyone in the last year, including Wesley. It seemed that he had gained Spike and Faith in his corner, which probably helped. But losing most of your friends was so not good. God, how that must hurt, how it must have hurt just as much as when they lost Buffy. She'd ask Angel if it ever got any easier to lose someone that you loved.

"Just promise me that you don't put yourself in danger any more than you have to," she finally answered.

Giles frowned at her and touched her hand with his. "I will, Willow. I mean, I promise," he stammered out.

After this, she'd get the four of them together and go on a vacation. She, Xander, Buffy, and Giles never spent any time together any more. Now she realized that was what she missed. She missed her family. And if it took the threat of death to get them back together, then so be it.

 

"Do you know where they are headed?"

"No, sir. I do not. They were not very forthcoming about their destination. But I shall endeavor to discover where they were off to. It shouldn't be hard. The girl gives away everything."

"You do that. If you fail again, there will be dire consequences. We need him to open up that damn door. No one else can accomplish that."

"Why? Why him?"

He knew he shouldn't ask that of the man at the other end of the line. He had put himself in too much danger already to achieve the goals set out for him.

"She has connected him to it somehow. He must be the one. Do not fail again. If he is not there by the time we have the spell ready, all will be lost."

He wanted it to turn out perfectly, wanted to have the power that was denied him so long ago. And if this was the only way to gain that power, gain that prestige that he had taken away from him, then so be it. His circumstances would change and his bastard of a father would see him for what he was finally. He was shaken out of his musing by the voice on the line.

"Failure is not an option. We will succeed and have the power to rule the world."

The line then went dead. To rule the world? He just wanted to be recognized. He wanted to claim his place in the world. Something his father had never given him. He had spent all of his time on the other one, the rightful heir. Being a bastard went both ways, he thought, amusing himself with the statement.

On the other side of the line, the man placed the phone down carefully, turning to see the other in the room with him.

"There has been a change in plans. It seems that the law firm has stepped up its search and destroy. They almost succeeded."

"Then crush them," the other said with no emotion.

"It might bring their wrath down on us also," he said to the other figure.

"Those insolent beings will be crushed when my power is restored. Stop them. I do not care what it costs. I will not be denied this time."

The man could not get used to the shock of blue on the figure before him. As he placed another phone call to make sure that the law firm kept its paws off of their prize, he mused that some day he would be at the right hand of the ruler of the world, that was if the other didn't rip him to shreds first. His plan would go off without a hitch. And the interference from the slayer and her friends would not affect it. Their prize would come to them willingly, would help them with their task, and would bring about the dawn of a new era. And he would be right in the middle of it all to take advantage of it. Absolute power at its finest.

 

Angel had drifted off as the van swayed back and forth while moving toward their destination. He and Faith had shared some staring time, but other than that, no one else spoke to him. Even Buffy had pointedly ignored him. Must be thinking about that new guy in her life. What on earth did she see in the man, he thought? He was so glad that Giles had suggested the guy stay back at the Watchers' Council building. He could only handle one problem at a time.

Wesley was his immediate problem. Every time Angel touched the man, it sent him into a tailspin that he sometimes thought he would never recover from. Was Wes's mind really that screwed up? Kind of like his mind sometimes too. Wes wasn't the only one who thought that he failed. Angel thought that every day, every minute of his life. Since he had signed away his ability to become human again, he figured that it just wasn't worth it anymore to live in the real world. But his friends kept pulling him back. Even Spike kept him from going over that edge. Cordy had once told him in a dream, or was it reality, that his little family needed him, if not the world at large too. And he never challenged Cordelia when she was on one of her rants. He wondered if Faith could get as bitchy as Cordy could? He didn't doubt that Faith could pound him into the ground if she so wanted. Hell, even Wes did that on one occasion.

Reaching over, he fixed Faith's hair behind her ear. It had fallen over onto Wesley's face, probably bugging the shit out of him. Even in a coma, he was too gentlemanly to say something was wrong.

"You need to wake up now," he whispered as he leaned over.

He bet that only Faith and Spike had heard him. He wasn't sure whether Wesley had heard, he just wished it were so.

"Hiding in your mind isn't solving anything, you know."

"Oh, he knows it. He just doesn't want to believe it," Spike answered.

No one else save he and Faith had heard the statement.

"Spike, stop playing games," Angel growled out.

"I am not playing at anything, Angel," Spike responded, losing his Cockney accent. It sounded so much like Wes, he wanted to punch Spike for it.

"Spike, not nice to kid the deadly vampire," Faith said to the both of them, trying to head off a fight.

Spike sighed. "I'm not kidding. I never kid. Oh, there was that one time, never mind. Getting off track."

"Spike, stop babbling," Angel implored him to do.

The look on Faith's face was what scared him. Like she believed just a little bit what he was still trying to piece together. Angel watched as she slowly inched her hand over to Spike. Before Angel could warn her to not touch Spike and Wesley at the same time, her hand shot out and grabbed Spike's in her free hand. So he took hold of her arm to wrench it away, just in case.

Big mistake, he thought. Faith's instincts were probably right. And he had to go and screw that up to play hero. The only other time his heart had actually beat was when Gwen supercharged it with her electro girl act. But now, he could feel each heartbeat from Faith and Wes, could feel the blood pumping through their veins, like he was a part of them, living through them. And the funny thing was he felt at peace with it. He had only somewhat felt this feeling once before, when he would snuggle with Cordy and baby Connor on the bed. To feel them both breathe in unison as they slept on the bed beside him, he would sometimes pretend to breathe right along with them. He could hear each and every sound that they made. Now he could feel each and every sound, breath, heartbeat, and thought that the other three made.

Faith was scared that the three of them would leave her and she'd be alone in the world again; Spike was worried that he would fall into that pit of despair that he had felt right after regaining his soul; Wesley felt totally useless to the group as a whole, hiding inside of himself, not wanting to come out. He could literally see the line between Faith and Wesley, tight as ever. The line between Wes and Spike was strengthening every day, even though the two of them didn't really know each other all that well. What he couldn't see was how he fit into this scheme? He wanted to be a part of this new, convoluted group that had been created out of necessity. What he didn't understand was how to achieve it?

"Angel, you dumbass, you remember how to do this," Cordelia said in his mind. "They need you now. Don't let them down."

With that, Cordy's voice faded into the ether, bringing about a bit of sadness in his heart. Oh, how he wanted her to be a part of this new little circle that had been created.

"You need to listen to Queen C, Angel. Not good to cross her," Faith answered back in his mind.

"This time the handsome man will save them all from the monsters," Fred added. "Or I'll come kick your ass for all of them. They need your help, Angel. Please don't let me down again. Don't let them down again. You can do this."

He swore he could feel Fred's small, slight hand on his as she spoke to him. He had never once dreamed of her, except to see her die right before his eyes, over and over again. Now she was here, trying to get him to do something he had no idea how to do.

"She's right, you big poof. It's time to get back on the saddle." Spike even annoyed him in his dreams.

"Angel, what they're all saying? It's true. The mission is still what we should be fulfilling. Helping the hopeless," Wesley started.

"Helping the helpless," Cordelia interrupted. Wesley glared at her to stop correcting him.

"It's what we're all about."

"Hey, Mr. Coma Man, I made that slogan up."

"Stupid ass slogan, if you ask me. It should be we came, we saw, we kicked some butt," Spike wanted the rest of them to know.

"No one asked you Spike," Cordelia spat back.

"I like the kicking butt part, because it's been way too long since I got any," Faith added. Everyone looked at her pointedly. "I was talkin' about fighting. Get your minds out of the gutter."

"That's where mine always is, love," Spike wanted everyone to know.

"Yes, well, with that said, I should say that we all want you back in the game, so to speak," Wesley insisted of Angel.

"Nice babbling, there Wes. I think what he's sayin' is, we need you. All of us. Even Gunn. I don't know why he didn't join us," Faith said to him.

They all stood in a circle in the Hyperion, all as they were before the mess with Wolfram and Hart had come about. He hadn't noticed it until now, because it had made him uncomfortable having this kind of dream. Now he felt a little more at peace with himself.

"Oh, damn. I missed the pep talk. Make sure I know about it next time, guys. I hate to miss one of these stupid ass meetings." With Gunn's appearance, the group was complete.

"It's good that you're all here, with me. It means a lot," Angel told them all.

Everyone shook his or her head, agreeing with him wholeheartedly for once.

"Angel, we're always here for you, whether you know it or not. We will always be here for you. You just have to look into your heart," Cordelia said to him as she approached.

"Enough with the sappiness. What she's tryin' to say is, you can't go it alone. Won't work that way." Spike was right, he realized. First time for everything, Angel concluded.

"We're a team. Will always be a team." Fred smiled his way.

"And no matter what, we will always be there for each other," Wesley finished.

If Angel had the capacity right then, he'd hug each of them in return. Well, except maybe for Spike because the vampire really did just piss him off most of the time.

"We're a family," Angel announced, looking at each of them in return.

Angel jolted awake as the van slowed to a stop. Spike was near the back now, and Faith still had her hands tangled with Wes's. There was no evidence that he had ever touched them. They gave no acknowledgment that anything strange had passed between them. But something had, he had felt it. He now was on more solid ground than before.

"Time to go, mate," Spike announced, fitting a blanket over his head so as to not burst into flames from the sun.

"Yeah, time to go," Angel agreed with him.

 

Fred jumped up and down as her heart nearly burst. It worked, it worked, she cheered to herself. Yeah, she probably broke about a million rules, but Angel had heard her. She had gone through Spike to get the job done, but now she knew that if anything happened, the four of them would know and protect each other. Now she just had a few other things to handle before she could get them to wake Wesley up.

She had concluded that Wesley was hiding away in his mind, and that it probably wasn't his fault. Something had happened to make it that way. She'd just have to puzzle it out and get the others to do the job they needed to do.

She just hoped that Lindsey was having a better time of it, trying to find out what exactly happened to Illyria when she had sacrificed herself. She wondered if it would be good news.  
Lindsey cringed as he walked into this hell dimension. Rows after rows of office desks, all piled with papers that never seemed to go away. One pile would be finished to have another pile replace it. He saw the familiar face he sought for answers. He contemplated going to someone else to try and find the information he needed. Illyria just hadn't disappeared. All beings went somewhere after death. All of his sources didn't have any idea where she went. There could be trouble if he couldn't find her. The havoc that Illyria could wreck wasn't something that he wanted to think about right then.

"Well, well, well. Slumming again. Or are you finally joining us down here?" Lilah asked him as he approached her desk.

Even in hell, she had one of the better desks. Probably bartered away some other portion of herself to get this luxury. He was so grateful that he had never signed away his soul to the damn law firm. Surprise washed over his face as he looked at the stacks on Lilah's desk. They were tall and never ending. Must be driving her crazy, he concluded. But Lilah always landed on her feet, even in a hell dimension.

"I need information," Lindsey started.

"Not even a hello, how are you? I'm shocked. You used to be so polite."

She was baiting him. He wouldn't fall for it. Too many lives were at stake, including his own dead one.

"Illyria? Old One who took over Fred Burkle? I need to know where Old Ones who die, where they go?"

"That was such a shame, what happened to Fred," Lilah bit out, sarcastic as ever. "You know where they go. Why are you asking me?"

"She's not in the Deeper Well. She's not anywhere that I can find. She's dangerous on the loose, even dead."

"Yeah, dangerous. Why do you care?" Lilah flipped up her hands in the air, like she didn't have a care in the world.

"Because it's my job."

"Listen, Lindsey. They'll never let you in permanently. You're fooling yourself if you think that will happen. You're bad to the bone."

Lindsey cringed inwardly again. He so wanted to believe that Lilah was wrong. He was trying to prove that Lilah was wrong. He'd taken all the assignments to prove to the higher powers that he really wanted to do some good.

"You're wrong. But I'm not here to talk about me. Fred and I haven't been able to figure out where Illyria might have gone."

The look on shock on Lilah's face was unexpected. "Fred? What are you talking about?"

"When Illyria died, Fred's soul was freed from whatever place it had been sent. Didn't you know? I thought you knew everything."

Lilah recovered quickly in front of him, but he knew that look on her face. The wheels were spinning. He just hoped that it didn't interfere with anything he was working on.

"Not my area of expertise. So you're working with her now?" Lilah ground out.

"Yes, I am. Don't worry. She's dead. She can't get her paws on your precious Wesley." Lindsey did that to bait Lilah, but she had been so schooled in hiding her emotions, she didn't let any kind of hurt show through.

"He's not mine. He's not hers. Kind of satisfying if you look at it. So Illyria, I have no idea where she could have gone. Did you actually go to the Deeper Well? Check it out for yourself?"

No, he hadn't. He only had his sources. And they said that she wasn't there. Another trip on his horizon.

"My next plan of action. Do me a favor?"

Lilah looked a little surprised that Lindsey would actually ask her for a favor. "What kind of favor?"

"If you hear anything about Illyria, could you let me know?"

"Now why would I do that?" she shot back.

"You tell me, Lilah. You tell me," Lindsey told her. He paused for a moment, contemplating if he should say something. "Now I know what he saw."

"Who saw?"

"Wesley."

"The only thing he saw was every inch of my body."

Lindsey smiled a little, knowing that wasn't what he was shooting for. "Not exactly the answer I was looking for. But you know what I'm talking about. Maybe if he had looked harder, if you had let him look harder, you wouldn't be sitting here right now. Redemption's a bitch, now isn't it."

Lilah couldn't always hide her emotions. Lindsey remembered very well the day that he had left Wolfram and Hart. She had her emotions taped to her sleeve that day. Her frown said it all. She didn't want to be saved by good old Wesley. Since she had saved him in return. And she knew it.

 

"What are you watching now, princess?" Doyle asked as he wandered into Cordelia's office.

Yes, she had her own office. She didn't use it much, only when she wanted to be alone, which was definitely now. She didn't know why the dumbass hadn't listened to her when she said she wanted to be alone. Too much work to do and not enough time to do it.

"You never listen," she told the man.

"Nah. Not in my life did I ever. So, what's up?"

Nosy Irishman, she thought. Oh well, might as well tell him what her plan was now. And she'd make him swear, cross his heart and everything if she told him.

"I'm trying to do something."

Doyle snorted. "Good explanation, sweetheart. Now what in bloody blazes is going on? Why are you keeping tabs on Lindsey and Fred?"

Damn, the man saw more than she thought. She just hoped he could keep his mouth shut.

"I'm supervising, that's all."

"More like manipulating. Give it up."

"OK. But you have to promise to keep a secret." Doyle zipped his lips closed. "Yeah, I am manipulating the whole thing."

"See, told ya I'd know. But why?"

Cordelia sighed. If he knew exactly why she was manipulating the whole scenario he might get mad at her.

"Because I have to. Orders."

"Orders? Oh, PTB orders."

"Yep. Obviously whatever is going on is worrying them something fierce. This is big, very big."

"So what can I do to help?"

Doyle wanted to help her. That's why she loved him so much. He took her at face value, no matter what was happening. Angel and Wes were the only two other friends that ever did that. She aimed to keep them alive, well, fighting since Angel technically wasn't alive, for a long time. For once, the PTB's agreed with her assessment. They were much better off where they were. The PTB's weren't exactly happy when they lost Wesley the way they did, even though he was still on their side.

"I need to talk with Angel. I mean really talk with him. Which means I need you to mind the store. Keep Lindsey and Fred in line."

"Ha, those two. They'll be fine."

Oh, if Doyle only knew how much the two of them messed with the system if only to accomplish the goals that had set out to achieve.

"Do you know how many rules the two of them have broken since they got here?"

Cordelia handed him a stack of papers to show Doyle just how many.

"Wow. They've been busy. Broke more rules than I did."

"That's because you didn't have a partner in crime then."

"And now I do," he said as he approached her.

Putting his hands on her desk, he leaned over until they almost touched foreheads together.

"So much more fun with a partner, now isn't it, love?"

"So much more," Cordelia said as she gave him the full wattage smile in return. "Now get your ass in gear," she finished as sweetly as possible.

"Such the charmer," he responded.

"Always. Now quit screwing around. Move your butt. Make sure those two don't get into too much trouble."

Doyle backed away slightly, but then pushed forward and placed a light kiss on her lips. They tingled as he pulled away and slowly walked out her door.

"Talking about being the charmer. Whoa, baby," she said to herself as she checked off another item on her to do list.

Doyle was helping her out. Now all she had to do was get Angel and the rest of them on board and save the world from total annihilation. Just a day's work for a higher being.


	9. Bring Me to Life

Chapter Nine – Bring Me to Life

The face of "evil" is always the face of total need.—William S. Burroughs

Lilah really wanted to tell Lindsey that he'd never succeed, but who was she to rain on his parade. Was she telling him everything he wanted to know? Not on her dead life. It was always good to hold things back until she needed something. Besides, she liked playing him.

"Lilah, dear. Time to go home," the voice inside of her head instructed.

Her white knuckled grip on the desk wasn't apparent to anyone in the room but her. Good to guard against those weaknesses, she thought. The room faded until she was back in her old room, in her parents' house, back in Northern California. Damn it, she wasn't some scared little girl any more. She was in control of her own destiny, abet the destiny that she threw away to get all that she wanted out of life.

"Hello, Lilah. Did you have a good day?" her mother asked from her door.

"Fine, Mom."

It would start soon. Impossibly, she could feel her heart beat faster. Paperwork she could deal with. Vampires, lawyers, crazy, insane ex-watchers, she could deal with. Family, her own family, she couldn't.

"Lilah, dear. There you are," her father leered at her from the doorway. "We've been waiting," he announced as the hand that had been behind his back came around him, something shining in it.

Lilah's eyes widened considerably. What she wouldn't do just to fill out paperwork, endless amounts of paperwork. She swallowed visibly at the sight before her.

"Shall we begin?"

 

The day had turned cloudy suddenly, sputtering rain against the windows as Giles prepared tea and coffee for the group. Wesley was the only one not in attendance, having been put in a small room at the top of the stairs. It would be cramped with all the people he had to house, Giles realized, but it was all he could offer. At least here, Willow and he could put up wards to keep the law firm's wizards from breaking in. The less people they had to protect the better. He winced when he sat in the seat that Buffy had vacated for him. His thigh bloody well hurt. His head was intact this time though, having been concussed way too many times for him to count.

"Willow and I realize that you all are eager to have Wesley back in the land of the living," Giles continued. "But as you know, it will not be that easy. At the moment, he is catatonic. We don't know the cause of this state. But we may have a way to bring him out of it."

"Giles, what if he doesn't want to come out and play? How do we know that he's not gonna die again?" Faith asked, throwing her hands up in frustration at the whole situation.

They had convinced Faith that he would be fine by himself for the moment. But would Faith be all right away from him for any amount of time? They would have to isolate Wesley if he and Willow were going to perform the ritual effectively.

"Not if we can help it," Angel answered for him.

Angel put a reassuring hand on Faith's shoulder.

"Then we should get started," Willow told the rest.

"I do have to remind each of you, that Council resources are being spent on someone who is no longer in its employ. It's highly irregular, Rupert. The man does not have any use to the new order," Clarisse pointed out.

"Angel, one snap. That's all it would take," Faith growled.

Angel held onto her arm, to make sure she didn't carry out the threat.

"Living up to your reputation, I see," Clarisse said as she backed away from Faith.

"Clarisse, oh do shut up," Giles said as he took off his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose. "Wesley needs our help and we're going to give it to him. If you can't be quiet, maybe you'd care to join Angel and Spike in the basement."

Both Angel and Spike smirked in unison, like they'd practiced making that similar a scary face. Clarisse immediately shut up, backing away to lean against the wall. Giles had observed Sam watching from a distance also, but not contributing to the discussion whatsoever. He'd make a good watcher some day, Giles thought. Observation was one of those skills that watchers needed in ready supply. Contributing to this mess was something he really didn't need or appreciate right then.

"Now, Willow and I must prepare for what we need to do."

Giles gingerly stood up from his chair, helped by Xander. Faith started to make her way back up the stairs, but Willow stopped her forward progress.

"You have to stay down here," Willow told her.

"No way am I stayin' down here."

"Trust them, Faith," Spike said as he made his way over to her. "Glenda the good witch will fix him right up. Make him a real boy again in no time."

"That fuckin' didn't make any sense," Faith mumbled, but backed down from Willow.

"There's no place like home," Buffy added. "Hey, Willow worked her wonky magicks on me to bring me back."

"No, Buffy. It will be me performing the ritual," Giles announced.

"Oh no, old boy. I don't think so," Ethan Rayne called from the doorway.

 

"There is danger," a voice whispered in Wesley's ear.

Just like the last time. He saw the demons enter the Watchers' Council headquarters like it was a movie playing in his mind. That's how he knew there was danger coming for them. The alarm was sounded again, only this time it wasn't Wolfram and Hart. This threat was much more ominous, definitely more dangerous than the damn law firm.

"He must not succeed in his task."

Before Wesley could make it to the door, he gasped in pain. One of the other three had been hit with an immense amount of power. Wesley had to stop whatever this creature was before he found what he was looking for.

Staggering down the stairs, his senses picked out what he thought was burnt flesh. He could see Angel dive for someone, which looked to be Buffy from the blonde hair, taking her down before a bolt of blue energy crackled directly above his head. Jumping down the last stairs, Wesley immediately saw people diving for cover. Behind him, Faith lay in a heap on the floor, burn marks covering her shoulder and neck.

Before he could even take the rest of the scene in, Wesley fired back with his own bolt of deadly electricity, hitting the figure square in the chest. The figure flinched somewhat, then took aim directly at him. Wesley thought he could withstand whatever was thrown at him, but Spike had other plans, shoving him down at the knees to the floor. The blue energy again snapped above their heads. It reminded him of something he had seen before.

Climbing to his feet, Spike was up and making his way towards the figure in all the ensuing chaos, as was Willow. The rest were either hiding, like Clarisse, or were injured. He had been wrong to assume that Angel hadn't been hit by the blast. In knocking Buffy out of the way, he had taken some of the force of the energy. From his spot on the floor, he could see that Angel was in a considerable amount of pain. Wesley heaved himself up and started forward.

"Ethan," Giles shouted above the din of confusion.

Another wash of energy burst forth, but this time it encompassed every surface. Wesley tried to get off another shot, anything to disrupt what this person was doing. Only he was thrown off his feet, landing heavily on his backside, directly next to Faith's unconscious form. Through the smoke of the battle, he could see three distinct shapes over near the energy source. Then with a bright flash, the shapes disappeared in the blink of an eye.

"No," the voice screamed in his head, not pleased that the flash had happened.

Sinking down the rest of the way next to Faith, Wesley tried to keep himself from going under yet again. His limbs felt quite heavy, so he lay back on the cold wood floor, hoping that this time, he would just sleep. Only it wasn't to be. He was slipping back into whatever self-induced coma he had put himself in. He couldn't even help his friends when needed. He had failed yet again to protect Faith. His last gesture was to touch his hand with hers, hoping that she would heal from her injuries quickly. His hand intertwined with hers as he fell under, trapped in his mind yet again.

 

Sam awoke with the worst headache he had ever experienced in his life. One moment he was standing off to the side, listening to Mr. Giles go on about what he would do for Faith's former watcher, then the next moment, he was flying up against the wall, landing with a loud thud. That was the last thing he remembered before the world went black. Holding his head, he sat up to inspect the damage. The smoke floating in the air didn't help his blurry eyesight one bit to see what had happened. He heard groans off to the left side of him. Scurrying over to the sound, he saw the vampire Angel struggling to get up, definitely in a huge amount of pain. He also saw Buffy trying to pull herself up off the ground.

"Giles," she croaked out.

"Buffy? What happened?" he asked her.

"Where's Giles? Willow," she called out.

"Bastard," Angel managed to moan out.

Buffy dropped down onto one knee to inspect the damage that was done to the vampire.

"Check on the others," she choked out, coughing as she did so.

He could see Xander crumpled up against the opposite wall where he had been standing not moments before. Must have been taken down by that first intense blast, Sam thought. Being human really did suck. Over near the stairs, he heard a screech of pain. Slowly the smoke started to clear from whatever energy had been dispelled. Or whatever spell had been cast. He didn't know which.

What he didn't understand was how these people drew bad luck like flies. They all were hot, as in someone wanted them dead. It wouldn't be good to take out the two most senior slayers along with the head of the council. That wouldn't look good on his record. But he had no way to tell what was going on, how to combat what had just appeared. And by the looks of things, neither did the slayers, nor the witch, who was nowhere to be found.

He could hear what he thought sounded like Faith cursing up a storm underneath her breath. When he found her at the foot of the stairs, he could see that she was badly injured. Her shoulder and neck were badly burned by the blast. Only there wasn't any fire to speak of. Her watcher lay next to her, hand grasping hers tightly. How did he make it down the stairs when supposedly he was in some kind of coma? And was the man's hand holding hers now tinged blue?

"What happened?" Faith gritted through her teeth, looking up at him.

Sam didn't know the first place to start. He thought about calling for help, because Faith probably could use a doctor. And maybe Xander too.

"I don't know. Whatever invaded knocked me unconscious."

Sam bent down to take a look at her injuries. She shivered a little as he tried to peel back the burnt layer of clothing from her skin.

"Help me sit up," she grounded out.

"Faith, we need to get you to a hospital. That burn looks bad."

"Not happenin'. Where's everyone else? B?" she yelled.

"Angel's down," Buffy cried back. "Willow? Spike?"

"Don't know. Bad guy went for me first." Faith cursed under her breath again. "How did Wes get down here?" she asked Sam.

Sam shrugged a reply. "Let me see your shoulder."

Sam gently peeled away the layer that was stuck to the skin. Faith gritted her teeth at his action. "No more," she told him.

He could see the unshed tears in her eyes. It must really hurt to almost make her cry, he realized.

"Wesley, you need to let go of my hand," she commanded of the comatose man lying next to her. "No, don't you dare."

Sam didn't understand why she was speaking to Wesley. He was out for the count. It didn't make any sense to him.

"Angel, where are you going?" Buffy commanded of the vampire.

He staggered over to his two companions, dropping down onto his knees after that much effort. "He's trying to heal you, Faith. Let him," Angel winced out in pain.

"I feel that every time he does that, he slips deeper and deeper into whatever grave he's dug for himself."

"We need you at full strength, Faith."

Angel's hand snaked out to touch where the other two were linked.

"Sam, check on Xander for me. I'll take care of this. Please?" Buffy asked him quietly, looking over at her fallen friend.

Only Clarisse had beaten him to it, gently cradling the man's head in her hands. He went over to assist as much as he could, keeping an eye on the happenings near the stairs. Looking around, he didn't see Mr. Giles, Willow, nor the other vampire they called Spike. It seemed they had disappeared into thin air.

"Where's Mr. Giles?" he asked Clarisse.

He could see the bruise on her forehead starting to swell. She must have gotten hit too from whatever had attacked them so suddenly.

"I'm not sure. He was there one moment, then gone. It all happened so fast."

So she had no idea what happened either.

"Oh God, someone get me a bucket of aspirin, stat," Xander groaned from his position on the floor.

"Thank goodness you're awake. You took a nasty blow to the head," Clarisse declared.

Sam shook his head when he saw the concern cross Clarisse's face for Xander. And here he thought that she hated the man with a passion considering how much they had argued not too many hours before.

"Where's Willow? Buffy, we gotta help them. Damn it, he's here."

"Who's here?" Sam asked carefully.

"This time, I'm gonna break his neck myself."

"Who?" Clarisse asked the prone man.

"Ethan Rayne."

 

Angel concentrated on not passing out as he linked his hand with Faith and Wesley. It just kind of seemed like the thing to do, if just to give the slayer some comfort, because she looked on the verge of wigging out, as Buffy would say.

"Faith, he's OK," he insisted.

"I want him to fuckin' wake up now," she said to him, not wanting Angel to touch.

Angel gently placed his hand over hers, which was linked with Wes. Wesley's heart beat nice and strong, which was a good sign. Faith's beat twice as fast, probably because of the injury on her shoulder and neck. The smell of burnt flesh even made his skin crawl.

"He's not hurt, Faith. Let him help. He can't do it without me. Willow and Giles aren't here to help."

"What?" Buffy gasped. "Where are they? Did you see what happened?"

While Buffy turned around to look for her friends, Faith encircled part of his hand with hers, still holding onto part of Wesley's. Angel couldn't worry right that moment about Giles and Willow, or even Spike, who seemed to have disappeared with the other two. He thought he had seen the three somehow make their way over to the person attacking them. Then they were gone in a flash of smoke and light. Portal probably, Angel thought to himself.

"Gone," Angel told her. "Portal opened up behind the attacker."

"Buffy, Ethan Rayne, the bastard," Xander said from behind her, propped up by Clarisse and Sam.

"What would he want with the three of them?" Buffy asked Angel.

Only Angel couldn't concentrate on Buffy at the moment, since someone else had spoken to him in his head. The voice sounded oh so familiar. "You must hurry. You must find him before the ritual is performed. The three of you are the only ones who can stop this," the haunting voice called out.

No, he thought. Blue spread across his hand and Faith's as the pain in his back eased somewhat.

"You're not going to take me over," he insisted as he pulled his hand back from the other two.

Faith also pulled her hand away from Wesley's, staring at the new color. "Angel?" she whispered.

Angel grabbed Wesley, turning him over, wanting to shake him awake. Only Wesley knew all there was to know about Illyria. He was the only one to study the Old One at length. Angel had been too worried at the time about the law firm and the Circle of the Black Thorn to be concerned with Illyria.

"Now would be a good time to wake up," Angel called out to his friend. "Where's the book that had the spell in it?" Angel asked Buffy.

"We need to get Giles and Willow back. Now."

"If we don't get Wes back, Giles and Willow might not make it either. And this time, I will snap that little creep's neck, human or not," Angel wanted Buffy to know.

"And I'll help you do it," Xander added, before making his way over to the table where Giles had laid out his books. "This one," he said as he handed Angel a large tome.

Giles had marked the page with a bookmark. Reading it over quickly, Angel knew that he would have to perform the ritual right then. Ethan, Illyria, Wesley, they were all mixed up in this somehow. He just didn't know whom he could trust. Well, he knew he could trust Wesley, but his power? Where had that come from? And was Illyria controlling him?

"That spell is very dangerous," Clarisse chimed in, stating the obvious.

"Not much of a choice," Angel ground out.

Xander handed him the mortar and pedestal that Willow had been grinding a mixture in while Giles had been making tea.

"It says that I need to sprinkle this around Wes. OK, I can do this," Angel tried to tell himself.

"Angel, don't mess up," Faith reminded him, looking glum.

 

"When I find him, I am going to tear him limb from limb," Giles growled out as he paced the forest floor. "How do we gain access?"

"Not sure," Spike answered, not wanting to get on the pissed off watcher's bad side.

His hand hurt something fierce. As he looked down, he could see the blue almost glowing on it. It hurt as it throbbed. And it shouldn't throb, since he didn't have a heartbeat. What had she done, he chanted in his mind? What had she bloody done to him? But he didn't think that she was responsible for bringing them to the Deeper Well. Ethan Rayne was. And he wasn't anywhere in sight.

"Drogyn was here the last time. We fought some of his minions, gained access. It's not like I took notes like Percy would."

"Spike, why is your hand blue?" Willow asked, really quiet until now.

"Not quite sure. Do know that it bloody well hurts. Alright, that's it. Blue, show your face right now. I'm getting stinkin' tired of bein' jerked around like a puppet. I know you're here."

Something tapped him on the shoulder. Startled, he turned quickly, ready to smash down whatever had touched him. When he swung out, he spun in a circle, his fist connecting with nothing. Only Illyria stood before him, kind of like in his dream. This time Giles and Willow saw her too.

"As I have been here, half-breed. You must hurry. There is no time to waste."

"If you don't stop bein' so cryptic, nothin's gonna happen."

"You must go into the Well. Find a way in before the other does."

"What other?" Giles piped up.

Before Illyria could answer, a large shape moved through the trees, stomping them flat as it made progress. Spike's eyes adjusted before the two humans had. It was massive, claws scraping against the ground as it lumbered over to try and wipe them off the face of the earth.

"Wanna tell me who or what that is, Blue?" Spike asked as they all backed up toward the entrance.

"My mate. The one who put me in the hole in the first place. You must stop it."

"Yeah, well, like to be in one piece, Illyria. That thing looks a bit out of my league."

"But not out of mine," Willow chimed in, throwing a fireball the creature's way.

It hit and fell away like it was a fly hitting a bug zapper.

"Spike, if you have a plan?" Giles asked.

"I think hiding is in order." Spike took off for the tree that hid the entrance to the Deeper Well. Giles and Willow were hot on his heels.

 

Lindsey walked into the cottage, hoping that Fred was around for him to ask a favor. He needed her help, but he didn't know how to ask her to do what he needed done. She'd probably refuse, he figured.

She was sitting at a table, books strewn across it haphazardly. Her fingers were curled around a pencil, furiously scratching something on paper. While he went at research as something to be fought and conquered, Fred came at it from a totally different viewpoint. Analytical, line everything up until an answer presented itself. The math alone would kill him. No, give him an argument to try in a court of law, he could sway anyone. Let him try and read one of those books, add it all up in a formula, then no way.

The sun shone in, making her hair light up almost like she had a halo around her. She was magical, he suddenly thought, not sure where that came from. He enjoyed spending time with her. Then he realized that was what got him into trouble in the first place. A woman, charming her way in, making him see things that weren't there. Eve had charmed her way into his quiet, sedate, non-Wolfram and Hart life, and told him he could take on the law firm and win. Instead, he ended up dead on the floor of a bar, shot by a green demon with whom he always thought about singing a duet. Life was funny. He really should stay away from women.

But looking at Fred, he realized that he couldn't. Whether they were evil to the core like Darla or Lilah, he still couldn't ignore the fact that he liked the way they smelled, the way they moved, the way they made him feel alive. Only he wasn't alive anymore. Angel had seen to that.

So he would concentrate on solving this problem and any other problems that came up. Then maybe one day, the Powers would grant him a wish to not go to hell. Hell, he'd work this job forever, if that's what it took.

"Fred?" he finally was able to get out.

She turned and her smile widened at the sight of him. Was that for him only? Since he didn't really know her, maybe it was just reserved for him.

"Hey. What'd you find out?"

"Nothing. I got bubkis. So we need to go on a little field trip."

"Uh, we?" Her smile fell just a little.

"Yeah. I need to ask you a favor." He sure was asking a lot of favors in the last few hours.

"Just as long as it doesn't involve that freaky Old One, I'm there."

He knew it. She wouldn't go with him. But he had to ask. "I need your help. My sources say I need to go to the Deeper Well. And I'm thinkin' that it's a good idea."

Fred slammed her book closed and neatly placed it on a stack. Taking a deep breath, she turned to look him in the eye. "No."

"Oh, damn it, girl. Just put aside your differences."

Oops, wrong time to put his foot in his mouth. She slowly got up to face him.

"She slowly killed me, ate me up from the inside out, flung my soul to scatter in the wind, with nothing to hold onto, tortured my friends with her presence. They just aren't differences Lindsey, they're chasms the size of the Grand Canyon."

"What, you think I don't know what you're talking about? Angel sent Lorne to kill me. Not him, Lorne. Some green demon who didn't have a violent bone in his body before he met Angel."

Oh geez, he did it again. The stricken look on Fred's face should have told him to stop his tirade, that he had made his point.

"They killed me after I helped them take down some pretty nasty demons. Angel didn't understand that I was trying to help. I was tired of always being on the wrong side."

"That's maybe because you were always trying to advance evil's agenda. How many times did you try to kill Angel?"

Lindsey was speechless. Fred was correct. He wanted Angel dead, many times over. But it had nothing to do with whether Angel was good or bad. It had to do with the fact that Angel had beaten him every single time. The one-upmanship had become the game. Not the battle of good against evil.

"Too many times," Lindsey whispered his reply back. "He saw it. He knew what I was and why I did what I did."

"Why, Lindsey? And if you give me any crap about your stupid crappy childhood, I'm gonna sock you one."

Should he tell her that he just wanted to matter to someone? That he wanted the power that Wolfram and Hart offered him because he'd never had that before in his life? Million and one excuses, no reason as to why he shouldn't have bailed out many years ago.

"I wanted control. And all I got was heartache. No more. I'm gonna do good. I'm gonna do what I'm supposed to do. If I have to die trying."

"Uh, Lindsey. Already did that. Didn't work out so good."

Lindsey chuckled. Fred was right. He had died trying. Angel had seen through his ruse at the end. Yeah, he had wanted control of Wolfram and Hart, to have that kind of power in his hands and no one else. He wanted Angel to go down. Well, he went down hard, and Angel survived, just like he always did.

"Come with me, Fred?" Lindsey implored.

Putting his hand on hers, he drew it up and held on tight. Her eyes softened at his gesture.

"Why did I ever let that bitch manipulate me?" he mumbled as he walked out the door.

Eve, Darla, Lilah, every woman in his life had manipulated him until he couldn't see straight. But now he finally saw. With Fred's hand in his, he finally saw it all.

 

Angel read over the spell for the billionth time, making sure he had all the parts down as best he could. He didn't want to accidentally transport himself to Pylea or blow up the house with some mispronunciation of anything.

Faith paced around beside him, looking like she'd hit him if he didn't hurry it up.

"Got it. The powder spread where it needs to go?"

Xander shook his head yes, settling by the doorway of the small room at the top of the stairs. Angel had carried Wesley back up the stairs with the help of Xander and Sam, since Faith was in no condition to lift anything. Buffy had tried helping tend her wound, but Faith shrugged her off.

"OK, the rest of you out." All but Faith immediately complied, knowing that he needed room, not an audience. "Stay out of the way."

Angel was frightened. His use of magicks didn't always end up well. Case in point, trying to gain entrance to a portal to Quortoth. That had ended up in a big, fat mess, with the exiled Wes giving them the cure for Fred. It would be a snap for Wes to do this ritual. He'd be lucky if he didn't blow the place up.

Going through the ritual, he chanted where he needed to chant, sprinkled the powder when he needed to sprinkle. Nothing happened. Looking back over the pages, he couldn't find where he had made a mistake. Either Xander picked the wrong book or he picked the wrong page. Or he wasn't powerful enough to perform what needed to be done. Reading over the instructions again, something hit him.

"Damn," he whispered to himself.

From what he had finally interpreted, he discovered that he had to be alive. Not a dead being, not a vampire. To be able to pull Wesley back, he had to have a heartbeat. He couldn't perform the ritual. Growling under his breath, he slammed the book closed, trying to think of an alternative to wake Wesley up.

"Soul boy, get on with it. Times a wastin'."

"I can't," he simply told her.

"What the fuck? Give me that book," she said as she wrenched the book out of his hands.

"Faith, no, wait," he told her while she opened the page and started to read.

At least it's been translated to English, Angel thought as Faith started to read what it said. The world slowed down for him as he watched the words slowly form on her lips. Slow motion was so overrated. Why did it have to happen right that instant? Unless it was a side effect of the ritual. She hadn't even gotten to the sprinkling of the powder part when he felt it drawing him in. He didn't even hear the thud of the book as Faith felt the power and slipped under with him.

 

"This is majorly f'ing crazy. What nut job thought that this was a spell?"

Faith was thoroughly, absolutely ticked beyond belief. Wesley was supposed to be out of his little coma and the two of them back to normal. Well, whatever that normal was, which wasn't this so lameass dream sequence.

She was back at Wesley's apartment. It was deathly quiet. Not even so much as a car honking. Freaked her out beyond whatever. Was she supposed to find him and bring him out? Was this his personal hell? Well, it'd be her personal hell if she had to spend all of her time cooped up in this apartment. Oops, wait. Already did that when she went through her "episode" a couple of months back. Personal hells really did suck big time.

The longer Wesley had been out of it, the more time she had to think about what had happened. He was wussing out was her only conclusion. Why else had he not fought back? Dying wasn't good enough for him, he had to go and hide in his mind so she could drag him kicking and screaming back to reality. This saving crap wasn't happening any more.

"Wes? Oh, Wes. Get your ass out here right now."

Nothing happened. Now she'd have to be forceful.

"Get your lazy ass out here right now, or I'll rip up your books."

No response. She really didn't have much patience left to search the apartment. Too many insults and threats were zooming through her brain right then. She needed to hold her tongue if she wanted him to come out of whatever shell he had put himself in.

Slowly, painstakingly, she made her way through the apartment. It was immaculate. Everything in its place. Books alphabetized, dishes washed, bed made, towels hung. Totally not the way she had found it the last time, the time when she had moved in and made it her own little prison.

"Wes, this is so getting on my last nerve."

She even looked under the bed. Why would she be sent here if he wasn't here? The only place she hadn't looked was the closet. Now that creeped her out. As good a hiding place as any, she thought. Her spot was always in some cabinet when she was little. Made it hard for her mother's boyfriends to find her.

Pulling the door open, she peered around the clothes, but he wasn't there. Then it came to her. Hidey-hole. He must have one somewhere. Just like when she found his diaries. The man was too secretive for words. He had to have a place to hide just in case the boogeyman came a knockin' on his door. Or in his case, it could have been her doing the knocking.

Faith closed her eyes, trying to sense movement, breathing, anything that might indicate where he was hiding. Someone else was in that apartment. Her senses tingled. She didn't get sent there just to piss herself off. He was here. She just had to find him.

It took a while to figure out where the hidden door was located, but she finally was able to find it.

"Damn watcher," she cursed under her breath.

Only when she tried to open it, it wouldn't budge. Nothing could hold her out for long. The wood finally splintered on the third try of pounding the bejesus out of it. Pushing her hand in the hole, she pulled with all her might until it gave under the pressure, flying off the hidden hinges to crash against the floor. Only she didn't like what she saw on the other side.

Bars. Metal bars. And they were locked tight. It might be something that she couldn't find a way into. But the breathing was unmistakable. No light shown in, but she knew he was there. Hiding, in the corner, not moving other than to breathe in and out.

"Wes? Where's the key?" she asked him calmly.

The breathing hitched a little, but no other sound came out. If that's all the reaction she managed to get out of him, she'd be here for days trying to convince him to come out.

"This is not supposed to happen," she started. "I'm the one that belongs in a prison cell, not you."

Laughter wasn't what she expected next. He was laughing at her. Or agreeing with her. She didn't know which. But this wasn't a fun laugh, this was a I'm batshit crazy laugh. She just hoped that she didn't have to smack him down if he went insano-guy on her.

"Yeah, I'm funny girl. Why don't you come on over here and tell me how funny I am."

The laughter stopped. Great, she thought. Here she got a reaction out of him and ruined it all in one minute.

"How about this guy walks into this bar?" she began.

"Jokes. At a time like this. Faith, you surprise me."

Double freakin' great, she sighed. Now he's pissed off Wesley. When will she get a break?

"I'm full of surprises. Come on out and I'll show you."

"Honestly, you think that I would fall for that."

Now this was really pissing her off. Seriously enough that she wanted to hit him, maybe hold him down, maybe, just maybe slice into him a little, draw some blood. She wanted to hurt him, needed to hurt him in the worst way. What in hell was wrong with her?

Slowly, she backed away from the cage, running into a chair in the way. Wesley finally came into view, came into the light that was shining into the cage. He looked exactly like he did the night she had tortured him.

"Come to take another pound of flesh?" Wesley clipped out, accent just as strong as it had been back in Sunnydale.

Her skin crawled, her mind whirled. This was not happening. She didn't want to hit him, slice into him. She just wanted to get him away from all of this. She didn't want to fail him this time. Because this time she didn't think he'd come back.

"I came to take you back to your friends. Remember? Angel? I thought . . . ," she offered.

The maniacal laugh was back at the mention of Angel. "The vampire with a soul," Wesley spat out. "My friend? How many times did he kill me?"

Was this a trick question? Wesley only died once. It wasn't like he was Buffy or anything.

"I'm not followin'. You only died once."

"I was tortured, shot, bitten, smothered, had my throat slit. I died each and every time. Don't you understand?"

"Nah. Buffy gutted me and I was in a coma for eight months. I got better. And you did too. You don't even have slayer healing."

"No, I suppose I don't," he exploded, punching his fist into the bar.

She could hear the bones crunch under the weight of the punch. God, that must have hurt, she figured. But he just stood there at the bars like nothing had happened.

"Tell me where the key is?" she asked again.

"There isn't one. I'm here, you're there. That's not going to change."

Faith stomped over to the door of the cage again. "It will if I have anything to say about it."

Wesley grabbed her, trying to push her away. Shoving him back from the door, she pounded on it with her powerful legs until the lock gave way.

"Should have known it wouldn't hold."

Wesley's back collided with the far wall. He slid down until he landed with a thud, cradling his injured hand. Grimacing, he looked up at her as she walked up to him.

"Why are you here?" he cried.

"I'm here to save your ass. Why don't you care?"

"Maybe I don't wish to be saved."

"Would you care if I said I don't give a rat's ass what your wishes are?"

"How do you think you'll get around him?"

Him? What him? Now watcherboy was crazy. It was just the two of them. In the silence that was really starting to get on her nerves. Her very last fucking nerve.

"Huh? You wanna fill me in?"

"He'll lock you in a cage and throw away the key too."

The shadow behind her wasn't fast enough. Faith's leg shot out and caught the figure mid-thigh, eliciting a moan of pain. Twirling around, she then slugged the person directly in the face, bringing him down to the ground.

"I'd forgotten how fast you slayers are," the figure on the ground said.

Faith swung out her leg in a roundhouse kick, bringing the man completely down to the floor. Cautiously, she poked him with her toe, wanting the bastard to be lights out.

"Oh, bloody hell, this hurts," Wesley moaned from behind her.

The lights were back on in the man's head, she hazarded a guess. While his eyes had been dull and lifeless while she had talked the nonsense with him, now they were blazing. He looked like he was going to get his fightin' shoes on any minute.

"Welcome back to the land of the, wherever the hell we are. Time to motor?"

"Wherever we are? Why we're in my apartment, aren't we?" Wesley faltered on the last couple of words.

"Last time I looked, watcher, we were holed up at Giles's place."

Wesley trembled a little as he rose from the ground. "How long?"

"How long what?" Faith countered.

"How long have I been here?"

"Dunno exactly. More than twenty-four, less than forty-eight."

"We have to leave."

Faith put a hand on him to wait. "Gotta take care of the mess," she explained as she pointed to the man on the ground. "And we gotta figure a way out of here."

"We walk out the door."

"You're a funny man, ya know that. Ain't that simple."

"Care to enlighten me?"

So he really was getting back to normal, she thought. Just so she could punch him or hug him. She didn't know which.

"Your freaky ass mind, not mine."

He scowled at her. "My freaky, oh dear. It seems that you are correct."

"First time for everything. Now how do we get out? I just said the spell thingy."

Wesley started to throw his arms up in disgust, but then changed his movement to just one arm. "You started some kind of spell and didn't know how to end it?"

"We, I, well, um. Yeah. I kinda did. It was to save your ass, you know. You could act like you're grateful."

"I am. It's just being trapped in my mind isn't the most pleasant experience in the world."

"You're tellin' me."

Wesley glared right back at her assessment. Screw him, she thought. And she thought that her mind was messed up.

The man on the floor started to moan as he regained consciousness. Turning him over, Faith recognized him. She thought he seemed familiar.

"You know, B's gonna kick your ass when she finds out about this."

"Then let's not let her find out, shall we?"

"Mark," Faith threw out before she was slammed back into Wesley.

They both went tumbling to the ground, entangled arms and legs flying. Faith was scared that the guy would figure out how to trap them in this cage and never let them out. Shoving against Wesley to get up, she heard the familiar clang of the door slamming home. The lock slid shut before she could reach the door. Banging on it with her foot, this time it wouldn't budge.

"You bastard," she screamed.

No one was going to lock her in a cage for long. This thing couldn't hold her forever. Angel knew exactly where she was too. It wouldn't be long before she could break out.

"You don't realize how apropos that word is."

 

Wesley's mind awoke with a resounding pop. No more dreams, no more nightmares, pain, suffering, dying. His mind had been freed. But he wasn't free. He lay on the cold ground of the cage, looking into the eyes of his jailer. But of course. He should have figured this out ages ago. These mind games had to cease. Throwing his hand out, he tried to utilize the magicks that had been coursing through his body before. Nothing happened.

"Ah, old chap. I'm afraid that won't work. You see, you're impotent in my little world."

Faith snickered at that comment. The gutter as always. Then he would just have to figure out how to outsmart the little weasel. And let Faith pummel him after he did. He knew there was a reason to have her around. His fist bloody well hurt like the dickens.

Climbing up off the floor, he made his way over to Faith, standing united against whoever this man was. He had a few guesses, but didn't want to tip his hand just yet.

"Far from impotent," he started, looking over at Faith as he said it.

Winking at her, he turned to move closer to the door of the cage. There had to be some way to break out. Then he remembered exactly what kind of construct Mark had deposited them in. His apartment. His mind, right down to the last detail. Would Mark figure out the failsafes that he had placed in the system?

Giving the best sneer he could, Wesley gripped the bars tightly, remembering exactly where the catch was to release the door. One didn't always need a key. He didn't want the bloody thing to be totally inaccessible in case of an emergency. Working his hand down to the lock box, he quickly punched in a key code and it clicked. So much for blasted keys.

"Look Ma, no keys," Faith chided the man right before she slammed the door right into his face, making him stagger back.

"My mind, my rules," Wesley pointed out as he dragged Mark up in his good hand. "You thought you could keep me here?"

"I did, didn't I? Until it was too late. Brought her here too. Seemed like it worked like a charm."

Wesley racked his brain, trying to figure out how Faith had entered his mind without Mark blocking her. He vaguely remembered something about a spell. Which meant it could be broken if done correctly.

"A spell?" he started with Faith.

"Yeah. Giles found this wicked ritual to bring you back. Said Willow had used it on Buffy when she went to la-la land. Brought her back. But Giles went poof, so Angel and I decided to take matters into our own hands."

In Faithspeak, he actually had understood most of what she was trying to say. Which was certainly frightening to say the least.

"Where might Angel be?"

"No go with the dead guy. Only someone with a heartbeat. We need to hurry on back, because some guy named Ethan Rayne opened a portal and sucked Giles, Willow and Spike through."

"Bloody buggering hell," he cursed.

Not a good sign when a powerful chaos mage shows up on the scene, Wesley thought. He hoped that his magical abilities were restored once they were free.

"Tell me exactly what you and Angel did."

"Well, Angel started the spell, then figured out that he couldn't complete it, since, hey, vampire and all."

Mark laughed from his position hanging from Wesley's uninjured arm.

"Faith, if you please," he asked.

Faith's arm popped out and took the man down quickly. "As you were saying?"

"So I finished it and ended up here."

"If I'm guessing correctly, Angel is still entrenched in the spell. He may be able to provide an anchor for us to get out. Where on earth is he?"

Faith shrugged, not knowing where Angel could have ended up. If it was the ritual he thought that Giles might have attempted, he had a fairly decent idea where Angel might be. But his magical abilities were virtually nil where he was.

"Faith, I need you to chant 'So it must end. So it will be. My will, my way, as it should be'. Can you remember that?"

Faith repeated it back to him a few times until she got it. He grabbed her hand and held on tight.

"So, do I need to be prepared or somethin'? Cuz I sure don't wanna end up smashed against the wall as we come flyin' out of your screwed up head."

"Lovely image you just gave me. And no. That shouldn't happen." He hoped.

Faith reached up and placed a small kiss on his cheek, making him feel a little warm. "For luck."

He felt like he was in that movie about the star travelers who battled evil. Now what was it called, the War of the Stars or some blasted strange name? Cultural references were sometimes lost on him. With a glint in his eye, he pulled Faith to him and planted a hard kiss on her lips. Her eyes went wide at his gesture.

"Get on with it, will you?" he drawled.

"Uh, yeah. Um, OK."

She was speechless. Now that was a first in her book. He'd have to figure out other ways to make her speechless. As a matter of fact, he would make it his life's work to make her speechless if this is the result he got each time.

"Come on, come on."

Faith scowled at his impatience. "Um, 'So it must end. So it will be. My will, my way, as it should be'."

Wesley put one finger up, then two more. She chanted it two more times, each time stronger. The room tilted until the two of them saw a light at the end of a tunnel.

"Finally. You know how long I've been standing here?" Angel burst out.

"Not as long as I've been trapped, I assure you," Wesley pointed out to him.

"Well, no. It's just I was worried. Faith was gone for a long time. Um, guys. Behind you," Angel shouted as he shoved the both of them out of the way.

A sword went sailing over their heads. Angel dove for Mark, who had obviously followed through with them. Taking him down for the count, Angel pummeled the guy for several seconds until he stopped to pull the man up by his collar.

"All right, Faith. One more time," Wesley informed the slayer.

"I feel like clicking my heels together," she said as they both got up from the ground. "So it must end. So it will be. My will, my way, as it should be."

Wesley lay on a small bed, Faith and Angel by his side. Buffy, Xander, Sam and Clarisse stood in the doorway, trying to see what had happened.

"Hey, Ma. We're home," Faith quipped.

Buffy gasped as she saw exactly who was dangling from Angel's outstretched arm.

"Mark?" Buffy started.

"Buffy, uh, we gotta tell you. Your choice in men totally sucks," Faith barked out.

Angel glared at her as Wesley scooted up on the bed, attempting to get up.

"Where you going?" Faith asked.

"We have a mission to complete," Wesley answered as he tried his unsteady legs.

"All work and no play, makes a pretty dull watcher, Wes. No, wait. Already are."

Faith was back in rare form, he thought. Just where he wanted her to be.

"He's responsible?" Buffy screeched from the doorway.

"Shall I?" Angel asked his former girlfriend.

"Might as well," she gave him permission.

Angel clocked Mark on the head, rendering him unconscious. "Anyone else?"

Both Clarisse and Sam nodded seriously no, while Xander just snickered.

"Time to kick Ethan Rayne's ass. Anyone care to join me?" Buffy wanted to know.


	10. The Deeper Well

Chapter Ten – The Deeper Well

"Spike? Now would be a good time," Giles called out from behind him.

Why do people think that he has all the answers? He came here once with the poof. And they didn't succeed in helping Fred. Drogyn bit the dust and left them without a way into the Well. Why? It couldn't be simple.

"Blue? Some help here would be appreciated," Spike asked the ghostly Old One.

"You must be worthy to enter."

"Hey, I was more than worthy the last time. Don't tell me that Angel was the only one worthy? That will not make my day."

Illyria turned to look at the advancing creature right behind them. "You are a Champion also."

"Yeah, and all the cup contained was Mountain Dew."

Willow let go with another burst of energy to try and slow the creature down. It just clicked its pincers in glee as it started to bend down to take a chunk out of one of them.

"Nothin's working, guys," Willow pointed out to the other two.

"And you call yourself the most powerful witch in this dimension," Illyria's scathing reply came out.

"Not callin' myself anything."

This of course made Willow get all in a huff, making her lash out at the creature, knocking it over with a large crash. But it slowly started to get up again. Willow's eyes started to turn black as she conjured up a new spell.

"Uh, abracadabra." Nothing. "Open sesame?" Nothing again. "Bloody fucking hell. Just open up, will ya?" Spike tried again, kicking the tree with all his might. "I'm the one who went up in a fireball in Sunnyhell. I'm the one who took on those dickwads from the Circle of the Black Thorn. If that's not a Champion, I don't know what is."

The door opened. "Unbelievable," Giles muttered as they hurried inside.

Spike quickly shut the door behind them, hoping that it would hold until they knew why they were sent there. They walked along a darkened corridor until they came upon the cavern that he and Angel had been taken by Drogyn.

"Uh, Spike. Wanna tell us what's going on? Cuz, I see dead people," Willow's voice rung out.

 

Fred wasn't sure why she let Lindsey coerce her into going to the Deeper Well with him. It was the one place that she never wanted to visit. The place where Illyria should have still been deposited. If she hadn't been released, Fred would still be alive. Well, maybe alive. She could have as easily been killed when Angel took on the Circle of the Black Thorn.

"So what are we looking for?" she asked as the two of them entered an unlit corridor.

It was dark and dank. Fred could tell that they were underground. It just had that feel of being enclosed and the creepiness of the walls made her shiver. Kind of like the storm cellar back home. Only a storm cellar you could climb back out of after the storm. Here, it was a graveyard of supernatural beings. The Old Ones, as Lindsey called them. She hadn't done any research on this group, because, hey she was dying at the time. And no one would let her, although she had tried. Passing out in Wesley's arms had prohibited her from trying to help. In the end, it hadn't mattered. What had been started couldn't be stopped.

"Clues to what might have happened to Illyria."

"Lindsey, I'm not sure I'm the best person to help you," she explained.

"Fred, you're the only one to help me. Everyone else who could isn't dead."

"Got that right."

"Plus, you see things that other people don't see."

"Maybe because I'm dead," Fred said, emphasizing the last word very clearly.

"I'm not doing this to freak you out or anything."

Fred stopped his forward progress with her hand. He didn't flinch at her touch, only leaned into it even more. "What did you think I was gonna do? This isn't some school field trip where we're gonna see rocks or science experiments. This is the place that housed the thing that killed me."

"I'm just doin' my job. And I need your expertise."

Fred noticed the signals Lindsey was sending her. He needed, or wanted more than her expertise. Why did he have to go and change the way their friendship was going? She was too confused to even respond to the way his eyes looked into hers. Closing her eyes, she sighed to calm herself. Now was not the time to deal with Lindsey's crush.

"Then let's quit messing around and figure out what is going on. Move it, buster."

Lindsey smiled at her, eyes twinkling in the faded light. He started off down the opposite corridor where the light seemed to shine a bit brighter.

"Why me?" Fred moaned, hoping that his little infatuation would cease to exist.

Oh boy, was she an expert in infatuations. But they never turned out well. Someone always got hurt. And she always seemed to do the hurting.

Following after Lindsey, she stopped when Lindsey abruptly came to a halt.

"What is that?" he called out, awed by something by the tone in his voice.

Fred glanced over a rail, not wanting to look down for fear of falling. Rows upon rows of what seemed like sarcophagi floated off in the distance. As she looked down, they seemed to go on forever.

"Must be where they house all the Old Ones."

"What if they get out? What if they all escape? What do we do?" Fred started to babble, obviously way too nervous to even think about why they were there.

"None of them are getting out any time soon. That's why we're here, right? To make sure that doesn't happen. We don't want Illyria to cause any problems by releasing her friends."

Fred wondered how much damage the Old One had done in her body. From what little she could garner from Cordelia and the others, Illyria had tried to do as much damage as possible, only to have the gang stop her. She really needed to sit down with her and ask all the right questions when she got back.

"So we need to find out what is going on? Lindsey, it's not like there's a computer here with all the information we need."

"Maybe there's files. There's gotta be something to tell us who and what is housed here."

Both started to look around at the cavern room, finding nothing of significance.

"OK, so what do you know, Lindsey? This guy, Drogyn I think I heard, what was he? Did he oversee all of this?"

"From what I learned, he was the Keeper. Must have known every Old One deposited her. Knew what they had done, where they were located, everything. Only he's dead now."

"Lindsey. You know what you're sayin', don't you? If the Keeper is gone, who's mindin' the store?"

Lindsey pulled his hand through his hair, realizing just exactly what she was telling him. No Keeper, nobody to protect the place.

They had been so intent in finding out where the information had been stored, that the two of them hadn't seen the three other beings enter the room. So much for not revealing themselves to humans and vampires.

"I see dead people, Giles," Willow's voice echoed off the walls.

Fred turned and gave a half-smile in return. "This is not what it looks like."

The look of shock on Spike's face scared her. He didn't believe what they were all seeing.

"This is not right. I, you're dead. Percy saw you die. Don't play these tricks Illyria," he growled out, backing into one of the railings.

"You're not supposed to see us," Lindsey said, stating the obvious.

"We see you, whoever you are. We want to know why we've been brought here," Giles interrupted.

"It's Fred. You're here. I'm not sure why," Willow said, believing at least what she was seeing with her own two eyes.

"Illusions, Red. That's all. She's dust in the wind." Spike was unconvinced about what he was seeing.

"As were you, at one point, Spike. Tell us why you're here," Fred asked.

"To find me," Illyria spoke up from behind the group. "I am not here to cause you any harm."

Fred didn't know whether to cringe in fear or belt her for all that Illyria had done. If she was here, then it wasn't good. Illyria stared at Fred now, turning her head to the side, like she was studying the former physicist. Fred wasn't a specimen in a museum put on display. And it was just too freaky seeing herself all dressed up in that leather get-up.

"Blue, you, you have to stop doing this," Spike cried, sinking down onto the ground.

"What did you do to him?" Fred ground out, wanting to protect Spike, but seeing no way to do it since she wasn't solid.

"He is grieving. I do not know how to help him," Illyria haltingly replied, worry etched on her face. "Just as I did not know how to help Wesley with his grief. These human emotions are perplexing."

"You did this to him, to Wesley. Can't you see that?" Fred implored of the blue being.

"Not to me, Fred. It's not her fault. Everything I touch dies. Every person I get close to, dies."

Fred bent down to look at Spike directly. She wanted to take her charge in her arms and hold him until all the bad stuff went away. Gone was the bravado and the I don't care attitude. Gone was the vampire with a soul that told Angel to get over himself. He had taken all of Angel's brooding and angst to heart, making it his own. And he hadn't had a century to deal with any of the things he had done.

A crash down the corridor indicated that something was coming. It was obvious from the way that Giles and Willow were panting that they had been running from something. Fred just hoped that whatever it was, she and Lindsey could help.

Another man entered the room, about the same age as the man Willow called Giles. He didn't look all that pleasant to Fred. From the looks on Willow and Giles's face, he probably wasn't all that pleasant.

"Ah, there you are. I had wondered where the three of you had run off to. It's time, now. So sorry that I won't be needing you and the witch, Rupert. I was so looking forward to kicking your arse for putting me in prison."

"Ethan, whatever you are doing, you don't understand the ramifications."

The man that Giles called Ethan didn't look at her or Lindsey. Like he didn't see them at all. Maybe he couldn't.

"We can't let him do anything in here," Lindsey told the others.

"I agree," Giles answered.

"Talking to imaginary friends now, are we? Just stand back. The vampire is all I need."

"He doesn't see us, Lindsey," Fred explained to him.

"Kind of figured that out too. This means we have the advantage."

"Or we can't help at all," Fred pessimistically replied.

"So we need to play keepaway," Willow concluded.

"My thoughts exactly," Giles agreed while Willow stuck up her hand and sent a fireball Ethan's way.

 

"How do we find the others?" Buffy asked.

The group had made it downstairs, tying Mark up to a chair, who was now unconscious from Angel's fist pounding him.

"How do we know where they went? We could open the portal back up? Wes, any thoughts?" Angel responded, trying to seem helpful.

Wesley didn't know how to open the portal, didn't know where to find the three who had disappeared. Maybe if he found a spell to perform, he could do it. Do a locator spell, maybe. But it could take hours for them to research it. His powers seemed to encompass tactical magicks, like defending people, not portals and such.

"I'm not sure," he hesitated.

"Well, you need to be sure," Angel prodded him back.

"Hey, back off Soul Boy. He's in no shape for you to push around," Faith said, defending him from Angel.

He could tell that she was on alert for anything. Her neck and shoulder were injured, but she looked as if she was ready to do battle. His slayer seemed always ready to do battle. Especially when she was around him. He invited trouble. They never got a break.

"Faith, I'm not pushing him around. He's our only hope in finding them."

"Listen, we need to not argue about this. Do some kind of locator spell and we'll just get in the van and go to them."

"It's not that simple, Buffy," Angel explained. "If I could, I'd just open a portal to wherever Rayne went right now."

A portal opened right behind Angel. Everyone's eyes went wide with confusion.

"I made a portal," Angel murmured out, a look of astonishment on his face. He turned to see the swirling gateway directly behind him.

"We don't know to where it might lead," Wesley told him, not wanting to end up on the other side of the world.

Things just didn't add up, Wesley thought. He had magical abilities that previously hadn't surfaced. Now Angel could open portals just by saying so. Was anyone else going to display abilities they hadn't had before they came to England?

"Well, someone hold onto me and I'll see where it leads," Angel said to the others.

Buffy took Angel's hand while he stepped through the opening portal. Immediately he came back through, eyes lit up. A smile appeared across his face.

"You won't believe. I, I made a portal. The Deeper Well's on the other side." The look of accomplishment was unmistakable.

"Better be where Ethan went. We go through and you're wrong, you are so gonna get your ass kicked," Buffy pointed out.

Angel scowled back in answer. "It's true. Let's go."

Angel held up his blue-tinged hand to Wesley, showing him without words that Illyria must be connected to them somehow. It might explain their powers, he thought. Faith's hand also was blue. He wondered what things she could do now. Wesley followed Angel through the portal, with Faith on his heels. Buffy had also made it through, Sam trailing quickly behind her. Then the thing vanished without a trace.

"Xander?" Buffy shouted, worried about her friend.

A roar down the hill made them all turn their heads in unison.

"What is that?" Sam asked.

Wesley knew exactly who and what the creature was trying to smash a tree down. He had researched it enough to know what Illyria looked like in her purest form. He thought he would never get to see her like that though. Now, he and the rest could kill her and place her back in the Well, where she properly belonged.

"Illyria, an Old One that escaped the Deeper Well. In her purest, demon form."

"She's trying to get into the Deeper Well, Wes."

"I think someone's shit needs some serious rearranging," Faith said as she made her way down the hill.

"So, Wes, if I can open portals, what's Faith gonna be able to do?" Angel whispered as they made their way down to the gargantuan creature at the door of the Deeper Well.

"Hey, you wanna come over here and fight someone your own size," Faith taunted the creature.

"Faith," Wesley scolded.

He never understood the need to hassle a demon when one was fighting. It certainly was a style that he didn't approve of. Yet, time and time again, both Faith and Buffy tended to do it with zeal. He just wished they would both shut it and get the job done.

"Do watchers even have a sense of humor?" she asked as the creature turned back towards the group.

"It's bred out of us from birth," he answered.

Faith laughed a hearty laugh, with Buffy joining in. "Sarcasm, they're the masters. I think it has something to do with being British," Buffy quipped.

Sam's head swiveled back and forth between the fighters. He'd need to get with the program if he were to survive his job for any significant amount of time. But not with Faith, Wesley concluded. And not with him around. Why was he jealous of a boy?

"Wes, any time now," Angel murmured him to start what he had planned.

"Angel, I don't particularly have a plan in mind."

"Well, why don't we fight it?"

"Do you know how?" Wesley asked him.

"We kick its demon ass, is what we do. Hey, Illyria, come here and let me show you what a slayer is made of. It's time for some serious payback."

Even Buffy looked at Faith strangely. Faith wasn't usually this verbose with the demons she was fighting.

"Faith, don't you think it's time to stop talking and start doing," Wesley reminded her.

The thing lumbered over to them, looking down but not attacking. "You think that you can challenge me?" the creature voiced, deeply reverberating around them.

"I think I can send your ugly ass back to where you belong."

With that, Faith disappeared, reappearing at the demon's leg. She struck out at the demon, making it fall back immediately.

"Uh, Wes?" Angel started, just as perplexed as the rest of the group.

"She's time shifting," Wesley said, smiling in spite of himself.

Buffy had already taken off down the hill to join her sister slayer, trying to find an opening while Faith appeared and reappeared around the demon. Wesley gathered his strength up, realizing that he could help also. Both Giles and Willow were near, so he could borrow their power for small amounts of time. What he didn't understand was Illyria didn't have that ability. Sure, she could time shift, was quite strong and could open portals at a whim. There must have been other things that she could accomplish that he hadn't known about. It must be how he had gained this ability. So he joined the fray, hoping to make a difference and put Illyria back where she belonged.

 

"Where'd they go?" Xander wanted to know.

One moment, the portal opened and Angel went through. The next moment, it closed right after Sam had joined them. Now he was stuck with Ms. Council Babe and Mark the Traitor Boyfriend. He'd have to keep control of both of them until the others returned.

"The portal just closed. Where is this Deeper Well?"

"Not a clue. I think that good old Mark knows though. Don't cha."

Mark just scowled at them. Xander made sure that the bindings were tied tight again for the tenth time, not wanting to end up like Wesley had. His mind was kinda scary too. Not a place he wanted be trapped in any time soon.

"I do hope that they manage to stop whatever is going on. Those two slayers are unorthodox to say the least. Their training," Clarisse started.

"Has kept the two of them alive for a very long time. And it will for a long time to come. Clarisse, don't you see that."

"If our slayers become willful beings, then how is the Council going to be able to control them? The power that they yield."

"Is what they use to take the bad guys down. Yeah, sure, it's not perfect. But Buffy and Faith? They're the good guys. So are Angel and the rest of them. But don't tell them I said that. I'll never hear the end of it."

"You don't trust Angel and his people?"

"There's history. Nothing that can't be overcome."

Clarisse sat down opposite Mark, looking at him like she was trying to figure him out. "You're a bad man."

Xander snickered at her statement. Yes, Mark was a bad guy, who was gonna get his butt kicked just as soon as Buffy could get back there and do it.

"You can't stop him from arising. We have seen to it. He is all powerful and will rule the world. Giles, he's the worst of them all. I hope that he goes down and fast. The bastard. That bastard took my place."

"Huh?" Xander wondered out loud. Mark has a beef against Giles? "Wait a minute? Giles has made some enemies, but you're not on the list."

"I should have been the head of the Council. I should have been a watcher. He took it all away from me. He took away my chances to have a slayer. She's mine. Buffy should have been mine."

Clarisse got up to stand beside Xander. "He's bonkers, isn't he?" she asked.

"Yikes. Anger management issues much? Let's gag him."

Xander quickly put an old rag around the guy's mouth.

"Well, done, Mr. Harris." Clarisse smiled his way.

Xander thought that she could be quite attractive in a British sort of way when she wasn't bitching about Buffy and the others.

"I aim to please."

 

Faith was totally in the game. Every time she thought about moving faster than the beast she was fighting, she would move at mach speed and get the jump on it. Everyone else slowed down to a crawl, kind of like that Matrix movie. She always wanted to be like those guys.

Angel and Buffy had joined her while Wesley was trying out different ways to smash the guy with his magicks. So Wes had wicked magicks, Angel could open portals and she could slow down time. Too freaky for words. But an advantage was an advantage. She'd use it until it didn't work anymore.

Damn it, damn it, she shouldn't have thought about that, because the creature caught on to her little trick and confronted her in the time shift. It could time shift along with her.

"Holy shit," she yelled out, getting tossed back and slammed into the tree. "Wesley, demon's time shifting with me."

The demon disappeared for a moment to appear right beside Wesley, sending him sprawling to the ground in an instant. It disappeared again, so Faith decided to join him. She watched as the demon picked Wesley's prone form in its pincers, like it was going to break him in two. Faith dove and hit the pincers before it could close around Wesley's torso. That must have broken its concentration, because they both ended up on the ground, out of the time shift with the demon.

Both she and Wesley scrambled up off the ground. As she started to take the thing on again, she noticed the black in Wesley's eyes. He was working up some serious mojo in that head of his. She just hoped he didn't go all Carrie on the rest of them too.

The ground trembled around them as Wesley brought up his hands. The demon looked all around, like it didn't know where that was coming from.

"Stupid fuck," Faith mumbled as she started to go for it and take that thing down once and for all.

Only Wesley held her in place. A pincer twisted as she watched. It went flying off, blue blood spurting everywhere. Angel ducked as it flew by him. Wesley was totally getting his bad on, she thought. He just needed to stay focused on which bad to pummel, and then they'd all be A-OK.

The thing kept roaring, plenty of other pincers swinging out at all of them. Now it wasn't so much hot shit, Faith realized. It was injured and going to go down for the count. The ground trembled again and Wesley advanced on it, eyes sparkling in the moonlit darkness. Other injuries appeared on the thing's chest, more blood spurting down its torso. He was injuring it significantly. But Faith didn't think that it would go down that easily.

"You think that you can take me on, human. Illyria tried. I am powerful, the almighty. I am the ruler of the universe."

"Yeah, yeah. And I'm the queen of the world, you little prick," Faith taunted.

She jumped back into the fray while Wesley wasn't looking, finding an opening and crunching down until she heard a satisfying crack in the thing's blue armor. Reaching in, she yanked as hard as she could, pulling out what looked like muscle.

"Wicked gross," she said to herself as the thing flung her back.

But she had injured it also. It now was limping. Wesley wasn't the only one who had his mojo on. They seemed like they were winning, until the creature found a weak spot and picked up Angel in one of its pincers that hadn't been injured. Before she could move or Wesley could poke another hole in it, it twisted Angel's neck. The resounding crack shook her down to her bones. In an instant, Angel's head flew off, and dust fell all around them.

"No," Buffy yelled off in the distance.


	11. Find Some Peace

Chapter Eleven – Find Some Peace

"You bastard," Faith yelled in unison with Buffy.

Faith looked to Wesley to see if he could do anything. Not only had Wesley's eyes turned black, the hair was now black, and veins had popped out along his forehead. Faith could hear the freakin' huge creature screeching as Wesley squeezed the thing with all his might. But would he succeed?

She couldn't believe that Angel was gone. She didn't want to believe it. Should she shift again, to see if she could find another opening, take the mofo down once and for all? Her mind raced as she watched the veins in Wesley's arms start to turn black. If she didn't stop him, he'd turn evil. Just like Willow had, only he wouldn't come back from it. Giles had been able to infuse her with good magicks, she'd heard. They didn't have access to any of that.

So she steadied herself and jumped, turning time back to right before Angel was picked up by the ugly, blue creature. This was more than slowing things down to be able to fight, this was changing history. She could save Angel. The creature had been so intent on crushing Angel, it hadn't noticed what she had done. Walking over to her best friend, she shoved him out of the way until he was far enough out of the fight. Then she slowly walked over to Wesley and put her hand in his. Then she brought herself back to the present. The rush of what she had just done wasn't lost on her. She collapsed at Wesley's feet, exhausted from the effort. Angel fell back, quite alive (well, dead still, but that didn't matter). He was still around, still able to fight the good fight. She had saved him, just like he had saved her in that alley so many years ago.

Wesley turned and looked down into her eyes, turning his head slightly. Just his eyes were black. Then he smiled at her and with a flick of his wrist, decapitated the gargantuan beast, spraying them with blue blood. The other twenty feet of its body fell to the side with a crash, causing the ground to shake intensely for a few moments.

"Oh, nice shot," she told him as she tried to wipe off the blue blood from her face. "And wicked disgusting."

"Quite exhilarating, too," Wesley grimaced as he pulled his hand from hers to wipe the blue from his face.

She climbed up off the ground to see if Wesley was back to normal. Unfortunately all the blue stuff made that a little hard until she could see the blue of his eyes from underneath all the gunk.

"I'm feeling the urge to vomit just about now," he added, legs shaking beneath him.

Faith grabbed hold of him to keep him steady. "Just don't aim it my way. And warn me. Blue goo and barf? Not a pretty combination."

Angel and Buffy had stuff on them too, but not as bad as the two of them. They hadn't been as close to the exploding demon as Wes and Faith had been. Buffy made an eww face as she came up to them.

"I for one want to have whatever you have. I'm all for new powers," Buffy huffed out, tired from battling a ten-ton beast.

"We need to find the rest of them. If that thing wanted into the Deeper Well, I'll bet that's where the others went," Angel pointed out, heading to the tree that the demon had been so focused on before.

"How do you open it?" Wesley asked as the four stood at the threshold of the tree.

"Hey, got it under control." Angel said something under his breath, but no entrance appeared. "Um, it worked last time. I'm the Champion here. Just open up, will ya?" Nothing happened.

"Perhaps another entrance is available?" Wesley suggested.

Angel just scowled in return. "OK, now I mean business. Open up or I'll tear you limb from limb. And I mean that literally."

The door opened. "Unbelievable," Buffy muttered.

As Sam came out of hiding and approached the tree, he looked all around for the four that had done battle with the really scary, pincered, enormous demon. "Where'd everyone go?"

 

"Bloody hell, I'm not a ball to play with. Just blast him, Red," Spike yelled as she jumped in front of him.

He did not want to be the cause of any more strife than necessary. But he knew that Ethan character would not just let the others go. He needed Spike for something, but he wasn't going to cooperate with the mage.

Willow sent a blast Ethan's way, but he batted it away like he was a child hitting a ball. Giles joined her, adding his power, but nothing happened. Both ghost Fred and Lindsey, although Spike always thought of him as Doyle, tried to help also, but couldn't get a purchase on this reality. But all he could think about was that Fred was OK. She was a ghost, mind you, but she wasn't just scattered to the nether regions like that jerk doctor had told them. He really should have just snapped the guy's neck when he wouldn't give them any more information about Fred. Would have made Percy feel a whole lot better, in addition to giving him someone to take out his anger on.

"You insignificant being. You dare to enter this sacred chamber and defile it with your magicks. I will crush you into dust. You will be vermin under the heel of my boot. Dead vermin under the heel of my boot," Illyria warned the invader.

Spike smiled. This is what he loved about Illyria. She could look so fierce one moment, then like a child the next. Oh how he missed both Fred and Illyria. Too bad they couldn't have been in two separate bodies.

"Giles, we don't have enough power," Willow called out.

Rayne slammed her against the railing, almost making her tip over into the nothingness below. Spike knew that it went all the way to the other end of the world. If Willow fell, no one would be able to save her. He grabbed onto her arm and held her for dear life.

"You can't hide behind the witch, Spike. Come fulfill your destiny. Open the Well. A new age will be born."

While Rayne had been ranting to Willow and Spike, Giles had almost made it next to Ethan and started to put his hands around the man's neck.

"No fair, Rupert. You're playing dirty." With that quip, Ethan pushed Giles and he fell.

Willow's screams filled the cavern twenty times over as Giles toppled over the other railing. Spike dove for the watcher's hand and couldn't reach him in time. Someone else died because of him, trying to protect him.

"You son of a bitch," Spike spat out, pulling himself up to full height beside Rayne.

"No one else needs to be hurt."

"But they will. Don't you see? You open those things up, the world will cease to exist as we know it. You will cease to exist. You're a fucking moron if you think for one moment that they will let you live. Tell him, Illyria."

Illyria's blue eyes glowed in the dim light of the cavern. She looked at Spike, wanting him to help her make the speech. She knew exactly what she was before, he thought. Why should she look to him?

"Your kind is beneath the Old Ones. They will have no use for you. You would be crushed for your insolence, human. Do not think that your powers would save you."

"You don't know what you're talking about." Rayne looked a little worried, Spike realized. Maybe Blue got through to him. Or maybe not.

"My mate has been vanquished. You have lost. The Well must be sealed for all eternity," Illyria announced.

"You don't know the power," Rayne started, until he felt hands on his neck.

"Care to finish that statement?" Wesley said from behind him.

"Giles?" Willow sputtered through her tears. Her veins started to turn black.

All of a sudden, everything stopped. Time froze for Spike. It only seemed like a moment, then it whooshed back into reality. He didn't have to take a breath, but he did just for good measure as he saw Giles sitting on the ground next to the railing. Angel held Faith in his arms as she slumped over. What in hell just happened?

"He's OK," Faith mumbled out, collapsing in Angel's arms.

Wesley's hands moved ever so slightly when he looked at Faith, which gave Rayne the advantage of getting out of his control. Elbowing Wesley in the face, Rayne took off down the corridor, with Buffy on his heels.

 

 

Fred backed into the next corridor, not wanting the others to see her. They didn't know, she thought. Neither Angel nor Wesley knew what she was. Would they be happy for her? She was dead, for goodness sake. Her soul was intact now. Illyria had seen to that by dying.

"Your help was appreciated," Illyria said from behind her.

Fred whirled around, face-to-face with the ghostly demon that had taken on her face, her body. Not only did it creep her out, she didn't know how to answer in return.

"They must find some peace. We all must find some peace. I regret that I ended your life."

"You're apologizing to me?" Fred exploded, hoping that the others would not hear her. They were all too busy tending to each other's wounds to notice. "You hollowed me out to make a new shell for yourself? And you're apologizing to me?"

"It is not enough. I know that now. Your forgiveness is not warranted," Illyria offered.

"It's not coming. It will never come," Fred seethed right back at her. "Close the Well, Illyria and let it be done. Don't let anymore of you come out."

"What did I do to you, human, other than take your shell?" Illyria retorted.

"You hurt my boys. And for that I will never forgive you."

Illyria backed up a few paces from Fred. She couldn't do anything to Fred and Fred couldn't do anything to her. But the gesturespoke volumes.

"I understand," Illyria whispered, bowing her head.

Lindsey had watched this scene play out with his mouth open, ready to say something. But Fred stopped him. She didn't need nor want any advice right then. She just wanted to get out of there as fast as she could.

"Let's go, Lindsey. I think our work here is done."

"We need to mind wipe everyone first."

"Get it done."

Fred even sounded bitter to her own ears. She didn't like that feeling down in the pit of her stomach. That same feeling when she was going to kill Professor Siedel. They had prevented the Old Ones from being resurrected. Illyria would see that the Deeper Well was sealed permanently.

Illyria turned to rejoin the others, the other living beings in the vast cavern. Fred wished so much that she could walk into that room too. But she had a mission to fulfill. And if it kept her boys safe, then she'd die right over again to see that it happened.

 

Wesley had hesitated one instant when he watched Faith collapse. And Ethan Rayne had made a run for it. In addition to the blue covering his body, his nose felt disjointed. He just hoped that the man hadn't broken it. As Illyria's ghostly form approached the group, Wesley wondered why she was doing this. Why did she want the Deeper Well sealed? He had gleaned that was what she had wanted. Only why hadn't it be done before?

"You all must leave this place," she commanded.

Wesley saw it in her eyes. She wanted to help them, save them. Something that she had done before, in that alley with Angel and Spike. She had been the one to take Gunn to the hospital before he succumbed to his injuries. Obviously he had done his job well, even though it eventually killed him.

"The Well will be sealed. The Old Ones that inhabit this place will never darken your doorstep."

"Put a cork in it and make sure it doesn't ever pop again, Blue," Spike added.

"Why didn't Drogyn ever seal the Deeper Well, Illyria?" Wesley asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

"He did not have the power that is required to perform the sealing. You do," Illyria said, pointing to Wesley.

"Borrowed power only. Your power, if I'm not mistaken."

"You do not understand the essence of your power, human. Maybe one day you will."

The cavern started to shake as Illyria finished off her little speech. The last part didn't make much sense to him, but if the Well were sealed, Wesley would contemplate that later. Everyone hurried off to the exit. Wesley watched as Spike said his goodbyes to the blue ex-god with the exterior of Fred. It was like he was saying goodbye to Fred finally. Illyria would not be there to torment him anymore. She would be where she belonged, encased in the Deeper Well for all eternity.

 

"Your powers will dissipate shortly after the Well is sealed," Illyria explained as Spike looked at her for one last time.

"I'm not sure what you gave to Percy, the poof and the slayer, but it's much appreciated," Spike replied. "I will miss you."

"I will miss you too," Illyria haltingly told him.

Another shake rattled Spike as he turned to look at her one last time. "Rest in peace."

Spike ran along the corridor, expecting to hit the outside dirt shortly. But as he rounded the corner, he could see Buffy and the others scrambling to get the only way out open.

"When I catch up with Rayne," Faith growled as she, Buffy and Angel put their backs into opening the door.

Spike leant his strength and noticed that the door budged just slightly. Pushing Buffy and Faith out of the way so they wouldn't get hurt, he kicked and the ancient wood splintered, making the door fly open. Super strength. Too bad he hadn't noticed that one before.

"Not cowering in a bloody corner any longer. Spike's back, baby and he's itchin' for some payback."

Everyone piled out of the Deeper Well, running for the hill. The explosion that happened a few minutes afterwards knocked them all down, with Spike landing directly on top of Buffy, shielding her from the heat.

 

 

Wesley had turned just as they all came out of the Deeper Well's entrance. He was supposed to seal it up? But how? In his mind, he imagined that happening. If there were no door, how would anyone know where to look for it? If Rayne had started the process with a ritual to release the Old Ones, could he negate it and destroy any way of getting in?

Building up heat behind his hands, he aimed a well-placed fireball at the entrance. Everyone else had already taken off for the top of the hill. He made the fireball so large, that the surrounding trees caught on fire also. Then when the ball was large enough to destroy the tree where the entrance was, Wesley chanted an ancient spell that he had discovered while researching Illyria. It had stuck with him because at first he thought he could use it to vanquish Illyria for good. But he didn't have the power to perform it properly. Now he saw exactly why it had been written down. Someone knew that one day this would come to pass. And that someone would actually have the power to seal the Well forever.

The power that he held in his hands was enticing, but he put that away for the job at hand. Unfortunately, he should have realized that he was too close to the explosion that ripped apart the tree. Sailing backwards, he didn't have time to think about what a stupid git he had been. His body smacked into the ground hard and once again, his world went dark.  
"Wesley?" Faith screamed from Angel's arms.

Stupid vampire had to practically carry her up the hill to get out of the way for whatever her stupid ass of a watcher had planned. He had just nodded Angel's way and turned to do what he needed to do. She understood that. She had to do it that way too many times to count.

So when she saw him sail through the air after the explosion, she just wanted to shake the crap out of him. He wasn't dying on her watch. No, watchers weren't supposed to die before their slayers. And she had already buried one, if she didn't count him that first time he had died. She wouldn't bury another.

Getting up from the ground where Angel had fallen on her during the explosion, Faith ran to Wesley's prone body, Angel hot on her heels. She had tried time shifting, but it wasn't working. Must mean that the Well is sealed up for good, she concluded.

"You lousy, condescending prick. You're not dyin' on me, do you hear?" Faith shouted.

Taking his shirt with her bruised hands, she picked up his unconscious body to will him to wake up.

"Faith, put him down," Angel urged her to do, bending over to check and see if the jerk had survived the blast.

The rest of the group quickly joined them, followed by Sam, who had a cellphone to his ear, calling for help.

"This is so not happenin'. You hear? Newsflash for ya, you aren't dyin', if I have to drag you kicking and screaming back from hell."

"Faith, he's alive. Scorched, but alive," Angel informed her.

Faith took in the sight before her. Wesley, partially covered in some blue stuff, hair singed, shoes partially melted, pants filthy, face blackened, blue embedded in his fingernails. He was wicked gross. At least he cleaned up nicely.


	12. Or Not

Chapter Twelve – Or Not

"Nice going. Little messy for my tastes. I am so glad I wasn't there. Blue? I can't even imagine what that would do to my new silk blouse. No dry cleaning bills really make my day."

"Cordy, why are you babbling?" Angel asked her.

"Who the hell knows," she shot back to him, throwing her arms up, almost beaning Angel on the head.

Cordelia sat on the bed right beside Angel. In his dreams, she was always there. Only she hadn't been there in a while. Probably because he hadn't slept in a while. It was so nice to dream of her once again.

"It's over."

"What's over? You mean, that Well thingy being closed? Yep. Good triumphs over evil. Angel slays the bad guys."

Angel made a wincing face. "More like Wes slays the bad guys. I kinda felt like the muscle."

Cordy punched him in the arm. "And what nice muscles they are. Sorry I missed it."

Angel rubbed his arm, hoping that Cordy could answer all the questions he had. Whatever had happened out there, it wasn't over by a long shot.

"OK, Mr. Pensive Face. I feel a brood coming on," Cordelia grinned.

Grimacing, Angel tried to gather his thoughts. "Something's wrong with him, isn't there?"

"What makes you think?" Cordelia started.

"Tell me the truth. Something is wrong with Wes." Not a question this time.

Cordelia turned away from Angel, not wanting him to see her reaction. Evasive maneuvers for Cordelia Chase, even when she's dead, Angel thought. It must be bad, really, really bad.

"Angel, I can't lie to you. You think Buffy didn't come back right? You ain't seen nothin' yet."

"What'll we do?"

"You'll know when the time comes."

Angel slammed his hands down on his legs and got up to pace. He really didn't understand this Cordy. She was so cryptic, while the alive Cordy told him exactly what was on her mind, well, most of the time anyway. He just wished that she would be straight with him once and for all.

"I am not killing him."

"I didn't say you would have to. All I'm sayin'," she managed to get out before Angel interrupted her.

"He's not dying. No one's killing him. He's staying here. Do you understand? You go tell your bosses, those Powers That Suck Big Time that it stops here. I am not sacrificing anyone else for their fucking schemes."

Cordelia had backed away from him slightly. Maybe that was because he had gotten in her face. She hated it when people invaded her personal space. Even if that personal space was in his dream.

"I understand," Cordy replied quietly. "I'm not willing to go down that path again either. I'll do everything in my power."

"No, you'll stop it. Don't come back here, talk to me, if you don't have any answers. My friends, no, my family isn't going anywhere. Got it?"

He could see the unshed tears in her eyes, but he couldn't back down. He had backed down before, when she had given him that one nasty little vision to take down the Circle of the Black Thorn. He had believed that what he had been doing was for the best. In the end, he had been proven correct, except his best friends had died in the process. But when he had first taken on the deal from the PTBs, it wasn't supposed to be at the expense of everyone that he held dear. He had learned his lesson the hard way.

"I get it," Cordelia solemnly agreed, getting up from the bed to walk away.

She must be done with him. He was definitely done with her.

"Am I still a part of that family?" she quietly asked right before she walked out that door.

"If you want to be. I miss you."

Cordy swallowed visibly, then smiled brightly to cover her emotions. He wondered why she did that. He could always read her like a book, if he tried hard enough.

"I miss you, too," she choked out. "I want that. To be a part of the family. Take care of what you have. And I'll take care of the other contingent. Deal?"

"Doyle?"

"Among others. One day this will all be behind us."

"One day," Angel agreed.

Angel rolled over in his bed, willing the vision before him not to go away. Cordelia was gone, again. But he would always have his dreams.

 

Spike felt, well, he had to think about it, settled. His mind wasn't playing tricks on him. He had seen Fred. She looked well. As well as a ghost could be. Her companion had tried some mumbo jumbo on them to make all of them forget what they had seen, but it didn't take with him. Must be because the vampire thing, he concluded. Everyone got out of there almost unscathed, although it looked like Percy's hair would need some work.

Starting over. Ah, what a concept. Spike had done it many times. Drusilla leaving him for that Chaos demon, Buffy pushing him out of her life, Fred deciding that Percy was the one for her, even Illyria sacrificing herself for the greater good (hey, that greater good did involve him, not complaining or anything). Women just did not stay with him. Did he have some vibe going? Maybe he should adopt Faith's saying, 'Get some and get gone'.

Faith of course wasn't listening to her own saying, because she was attached as ever to her watcher, damn wanker. It was for the best. They probably deserved each other.

Spike sat on the top of the bloody Watcher wanker building, smoking a cigarette. He hadn't had one in way too long. It felt good to be outside, breathing in the fresh, clean English air. Los Angeles smog just made him choke sometimes.

"Predictable," Buffy called from the stairway.

Just when a bloke wanted a cig and some peace and quiet, a woman had to come and screw it up. He hadn't really spoken with Buffy yet, since they first saw each other in that conference room. Too many things left unsaid between them. He had wanted to leave it that way. Going out with such a send-off certainly wouldn't impress her anymore.

"Person have to die around her to get some peace and quiet?"

"Always with the quip."

"Hey, you're the one who can slay and play at the same time. I'm just in it for the chicks."

"Chicks? Man, you are old."

Spike smiled at Buffy. He had missed sparring with her, verbally and physically.

"You all right?" he asked her quietly.

"Will be. Giles has Mark locked up. Seems that daddy Giles didn't tell anyone that he had an illegitimate son."

"Oh, that's gotta hurt."

"You're tellin' me. Giles was in total sulk mode."

"Kind of like when I found out that Angelus had left the building. Get's ya right here," Spike said, pointing to his undead heart.

"Yeah," Buffy nodded, one eyebrow raised.

Both paced around the roof, not talking for a while, just looking at the twinkling lights below.

"So?" Buffy started.

"So?" Spike continued. This was not getting them anywhere. "Thank you."

"For?"

"For caring. Never told you that."

"I do. I mean I do care, for you. It's just," she gulped out.

"You've moved on. I understand. See, I'm off women, completely. They either fall in love with someone else, or they die. Kinda takes the romance out of the situation."

"Bummer. I'm kinda feelin' that way too. All my boyfriends have been evil, at one point or another."

"It's not you, Buffy."

"It's not you, Spike."

Both laughed at the same time. "We're a bunch of sodding fuck ups."

"Uh, maybe. I'm glad you're back."

Buffy moved closer to him, putting out her arms to take him into a hug. Beats being totally alone, he thought. At least she still cares. That's something. He could deal with it. Oh, bloody, buggering hell. She could still make him feel that way. Even him dying hadn't changed that. As he stroked her hair, he thought of what could have been. They were both wiser about each other, about what they wanted. So why couldn't he get over her?

"Did you love Illyria?" Buffy said as she pulled back slightly.

Oh, bloody, buggering hell.Indeed, as Percy would put it.

 

"What are you doing down here?" Faith called to Wesley as he paced in a training room.

She had wanted him to stay immobile, but the guy must have that hyperactivity disorder, since he was always moving. The hands in the pockets indicated he was in full brood mode. The head bowed, looking at the ground, feet shuffling against the floorboards, meant that he was thinking way too much. What's a slayer to do?

"Faith."

"Yep, that's me. Slayer, killer body, killer hands. Loves to pummel things. Looking for her watcher, who should be lying up in bed recuperating, thank you very fucking much."

"You're not the boss of me," he shot back.

"Condescending bastard. Have I ever told you that?"

"On several occasions and with much glee."

She got a small smirk out of him. There was only one dim light on in the place, but with her slayer abilities, she could still see how much his brow was crinkled up, how pensive he was.

"So, you wanna tell me why you insist on injuring yourself again?"

"I'm just taking a stroll."

"Yeah, says the trouble magnet." Wesley laughed a little. "You had some serious moves out there."

"Faith," he interrupted her. "It's not gone. The power that I unleashed to seal the Well? It's still there. Putting Illyria back where she belonged didn't make it go away."

Faith's borrowed power had gone away, and she was pretty sure Angel's had too.

"So you gonna go all evil on us and blow up Sunnydale or somethin'? Oh, wait. Too late. Sunnydale's history. Look, nothin's gonna happen."

"You don't know that. The power was quite enticing."

Faith cackled out a laugh before she thought better. She would know how enticing power could be. Without another word, she made her way over to Wesley and grabbed his head in her hands. Covering his mouth with hers, she leaned into him. Before she knew it, his hands snaked around her back. This is what she wanted, what she had been feeling for quite some time. Did he want the same? By the way he kissed her, he wanted something.

As he turned his head to deepen the kiss, she opened her mouth to let him in. She didn't know whether she groaned first or he did. By the time she let go of his mouth to actually breathe, he had one hand fisted in her hair and another hitching up the back of her shirt.

Immediately his eyes went wide. He was backing away from me, she thought. He can't, he can't. Grabbing his shirt, she dove in again, before he could change his mind. Then he literally devoured her, like she was his lifeline and if he weren't joined with her, he'd not survive it.

Wesley was the one who broke that knee-shaking kiss. A look of apology crossed his face. She wanted to wipe it off of there as quickly as possible. When she reached for him again, he pushed her away.

"I can't," his voice came out in a whisper.

Would she plead with him? Not her style. But she'd do anything to get that look off of his face. "For fuck's sake, can't you just once not think too much?"

"I can't," he repeated, backing away this time for real. "You, Faith. I can't."

"Stop saying that. You can. How long did it take for you to ask Fred out, huh?"

That did it, Faith thought. A look of fury crossed his face. He marched out of the room before she could say anything else. But she wasn't going down without a fight. She had too much to lose. Running to catch up with him, she spun him around in the corridor, pushing him into a wall. Luckily it was fairly quiet, with no one around to question them.

"You didn't answer my question. Took you forever. Thought too much about it. Then when it was too late. Damn it, Wes."

The look of horror on his face was unmistakable. But she wanted to reach him, to tell him to feel instead of analyze. Sometimes it was better that way. He leaned back against the cool stone of the wall outside, putting his hands back in his pockets.

"I waited too late. And then it was too late. I'm always too late. I was too late the first time and Gunn got there before me. The second time she died."

"I know you don't want to get hurt."

"Hurt? You don't know the meaning of that word," he ground out.

Touché, she thought. He knew how to hit her the hardest. Knew where her weak spots were. He was the only one who knew where they were, what to say to her that would make her weak in the knees.

"I do, you know, know the meaning of it. Cuz, I'm feelin' it right now."

"Sorry to disappoint you," Wesley bit out.

Faith stood directly in front of Wesley right then, but he wouldn't look at her. There were too many interesting things on the ground than for him to look into her eyes.

"I can't believe I'm standin' here right now, tryin' to convince you, that, I'm, I don't even know how to say it," she faltered, trying to be honest.

"What do you feel, Faith?" he said as he finally looked her directly, blue eyes blazing.

"You're askin' me? Gotta say, I didn't see any of this comin'. It just was there and I don't know what to do about it."

"What's there?" he swallowed.

"I'm not the word person here, dipshit."

Standing up on her tippy-toes, she placed a light kiss on his lips. At least his look of surprise was a little more encouraging. She didn't exactly want him to walk away without knowing how she felt. Leaning over, he moved his mouth against hers very gently, like she was the most fragile person in the world to him. And she melted against him.

"Slow," he sighed against her lips.

"Sure. We'll take it slow," she got out between kisses.

Running her hands up to his neck, she could take slow. Just as long as he was around to go slow with. Only his hands started to roam, making her catch her breath.

"I thought slow," she managed to get out as his lips traveled to her throat.

"I lied. Don't leave me."

If Faith could cry, she would have right then. Jumping up, she wrapped her legs around him, making him grunt. She gave a hearty laugh in return.

"Not plannin' on it."

 

"He's become dangerous."

"Giles. There's things that we can do," Willow exclaimed.

Willow knew exactly what Giles was feeling. He had gone through the same thing with her. OK, maybe she didn't, she groaned inwardly. He wasn't exactly the sharing type of guy.

"He'll have to agree to extensive training."

"The witches. They'll help. I mean, did you see what he could do?"

Willow was rather impressed at what Wesley could do. She and Giles sat in his office, drinking too much tea late into the night. Now she'd be up for hours just to get rid of the shakes that the caffeine caused. Right after she had tried to end the world, she had similar shakes. Shakes that would have taken her under if Giles hadn't been there for her.

They had been there talking, trying to figure out what to do with Mark. Giles was hurting because of that. Having an evil brother sure did put a damper on things.

"I did see. I felt it, Willow. The darkness within him."

"We'll ground him. It'll work."

But by the look on Giles's face, he didn't entirely believe her. He hadn't entirely believed that she could learn to control her magicks either. And now look at her. She was under control, mostly.

"Willow, I believe that he may become even more powerful than you have become."

Damn, that was a bummer. It was kinda great to be the all powerful one. But she knew the allure of the dark side. It sometimes solved things when nothing else worked. But come on, she thought to herself. Wesley was a watcher, much older than she was when it happened to her, and nothing bad had happened to him in a while, if she didn't count a few of his friends dying. Who was she kidding? He was a watcher to a slayer who tended to get herself into heaps of trouble and friends to two souled vampires that were being hunted by an evil law firm. Lots of chances to lose control if things went wrong.

"Maybe. Not that I'm sayin' that's bad or good. It's just, the way it is. We'll help him."

"Yes, since that's what we do. And we really have no choice."

"No, I guess not."

 

Fred tried to remain calm after all that had happened. She sat in the field, breeze floating around her. The smells were intoxicating. This was where she liked it best in this dimension. It smelled like home.

"Hey," Cordelia softly called out.

"Hey. What's up?" she replied, opening her eyes.

"Nothing. Pretty quiet. Thought we could talk."

"I'm in trouble, ain't I?"

"No more than I am. Don't worry. I have an in with those Powers that Bug Us."

"They, um, they suck sometimes, don't they?"

"Oh, sometimes," Cordelia smiled down at her.

She lowered herself beside Fred and put her head back to look at the lazy clouds go by.

"So, how are things?" Fred finally asked after another moment of silence.

"Angel, he hates me, I think."

Fred immediately picked up on Cordy's hitch in her voice. "No, no. He may be frustrated with you, but he'd never hate you."

"I miss him so much. I try to help when I can, you know."

Fred hadn't seen Cordy cry that often. But a tear escaped down her face. She hurriedly wiped it away. Why are some women beautiful even when they cry, Fred thought?

"You do help," Fred said to comfort her. "But sometimes, well, a lot of the time, he doesn't listen. He's a stubborn man, um, vampire. All our boys are stubborn."

"You got that right. Stupid jerks. Sometimes I really just want to go and kick their collective asses. Makes me feel better to know that I really could."

"You could? No fair," Fred pouted.

"Well, none of this is any fair, but here we are. Why don't we go look in the freezer and see if there's any Ben and Jerry's?"

"Are they OK, Cordy?"

"Yeah, for now."

That satisfied Fred. Not only was she keeping an eye on the guys, so was Cordy. And obviously Cordy had a lot more influence than she would ever have.

"Hey, if you ever get to go down there, you know, to kick their asses, can I watch?"

Cordelia smirked the younger woman's way. "As if. I'd get my ass fired so quick, I might end up with Lilah."

"Eww. Don't even want to know. Skank."

"Whore."

"Bitch."

Both dissolved into a fit of laughter as they walked back to the cottage. Things were stable, for now. Fred was fitting in nicely, had Cordy there to guide her, her boys were alive, and Lindsey, well, she'd have to see about Lindsey.

The End


End file.
